


Alternatives to Wolves and Sheep

by Seaward



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Asexuality, Body Modification, Canon Character of Color, Cultural Differences, Cyborgs, Established Relationship, Identity Issues, M/M, Robots, Service Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13335942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seaward/pseuds/Seaward
Summary: Earthlings can be hard to understand—whether you're a geek from Earth, a Runner from Pegasus, or an amnesiac cyborg from an alternate universe.





	Alternatives to Wolves and Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> There is a character in this story based on Nebula from the Marvel Universe. I'm not an expert on the character or universe, and in this story she's had her memories wiped and can easily be read as an OC. (But for those who want a picture, she at least looks like Nebula.) Also, the story is told from three unique and rather alienated perspectives, so if some characters look bad sometimes, that doesn't mean the author doesn't like them anymore or expects the reader to "agree" that they're bad. Finally, many thanks to Elayna and Diony who both gave me valuable feedback from their very different perspectives. All remaining mistakes are mine.

**Day One**

She woke in pain. Again.

Her jaw snapped into place first. A shoulder, an arm, hard surfaces shifted against hard. They realigned. The rest of her was mostly soft, at least on the outside. Three vertebrae reset, sending stabbing pain through adjacent nerves. She screamed on the inside as mechanisms in her left eye scanned the room silently.

Two armored men, empty. No power. No heat. Either they were statues or empty suits.

The only power in the dim gray room flowed to tiny lights, around the pool and in the ceiling. Artificial air pressure was higher than she expected with a pressure gradient tapering into the pool of water. A portal to the deep sea. She was not in space but far underwater.

A face emerged from the pool—green, familiar, not familiar—not the one she'd fought.

A mouth gaped in an alien face. It opened wide, showing many sharp teeth. Yellow irises, vertical pupils in eyes sunk deep in blue shadow, met hers.

The woman sprang from the water, pounced on top of her.

Without knowing her own name, the one who had woken beside the pool knew her purpose. She was a weapon. With an instinctive kick the weapon sent the wet woman flying across the room.

But her opponent was fast, back on her in a minute. The green wet woman pressed with a mental force that slid away from silicon and processors. After a moment of blank shock, she reached out with a slitted palm.

The green woman was biological and wet.

On instinct, the weapon struck out with electric batons. The power flowed through them both. There was pain running through both, at first.

But the weapon could ignore pain. She shifted until she crouched above the green woman. Her batons held properly did not electrocute the weapon. The rubber soles of her shoes did not conduct electricity from the wet ground.

She watched the purely biological body seize and twitch until no sign of life remained. Switching off the electricity, the weapon moved back to survey her kill. It was too easy. There was too much she did not know. The weapon pulled out her strongest knife and severed the head of her victim.

#

"Forcefields are down. Internal sensors restored," Dr. Zelenka called from his console across the control room in the mobile drilling platform.

"Systems restored," Rodney announced into his radio. He ignored Zelenka's mumbling in Czech.

"Dr. McKay, can we contact Atlantis?" Weir asked.

"No," Rodney answered without looking up from the main console, where he'd stationed himself.

"Can we run another scan for the Wraith queen?" John asked over the radio. He and Ronon were the only ones still out exploring the underwater drilling platform. After a Wraith queen had taken control of Teyla's mind and caused her to blast away parts of the computer system, most of the drilling platform's sensors had failed. Protective forcefields had sprung up. Everyone who could had gathered in the control room, for their own safety and to keep an eye on each other in case the Wraith queen tried another mental attack.

"Running another redundant life signs scan now." Rodney assumed whatever had blocked their scan before would still be blocking it now. He was surprised to see a lone dot. "Got it. One life sign at the open water access. Lowest level, right by the base of the stairs."

"On it," Sheppard replied. "Keep everyone else together."

#

Ronon peered through the open door first, his blaster was still their best weapon against a Wraith. The Wraith queen he saw was dead. Not only dead but beheaded. Thorough. He motioned silently for Sheppard to look.

After a quick glance around the door, Sheppard pulled out a handheld Life Signs Detector. Through silent hand gestures he indicated that Ronon should cover him and that someone was hidden up near the ceiling to the right of the door.

Ronon remembered a platform or support of some kind covering that location. From his brief look around, he hadn't been sure if it was structural or used for hauling things up from the pool. Ancient designs made little sense to him with their tiny lights and indefensible nooks. There was a lot he didn't understand about his team leader's strategy either, as demonstrated by the man's next words.

Sheppard called into the room. "Hello in there. I'm John Sheppard, and I'm all for killing Wraith, too. Any chance we could talk?"

Ronon was not surprised by the lack of response. He wondered if combatants on Earth would trust such assertions and choose allies based on such casual requests.

McKay's voice came over their radios again, "We've located a downed Wraith Cruiser on our remote sensors. It appears to be covered in silt, so either it's been here a while or that's intentional camouflage."

Sheppard called out again, "Look, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, since there's a nicely beheaded Wraith queen on the floor in there, but…" He drew out the last word and waited. There was no answer. Earthlings acted like everyone wanted to talk. "Problem is, there might be more Wraith out there, and I need to make sure you're not one of them. Are you with us, or do we shoot you?" Finally he got to the point.

Sheppard motioned for Ronon to set his blaster to stun. That would not be enough if they were facing a Wraith. Nor was it the best way to approach an ally who would probably fall from a high perch if stunned now. Ronon switched the setting anyway as a high-pitched voice replied.

"I could kill more of them."

"Great, that mean you won't shoot me?" Sheppard asked, already lowering his P-90.

"That's asking a lot," the voice said. Ronon agreed.

"Better an ally than another enemy." Sheppard was good at sounding non-threatening. Another difference from Satedan military strategy, but a ploy that sometimes worked.

"Can you promise me safe passage after we fight Wraith?" the voice from up high asked.

"I'll see you through the Gate personally."

"Show yourself."

John stepped in with his P-90 lowered, but he kept close to the wall, not blocking Ronon's line of fire.

The person who jumped to the floor on the far side of the pool was blue and purple and partly made of metal. From the agility of her jump, it was easier to believe she'd taken out a Wraith queen. But she didn't have an obvious sword, blaster, or weapon. Her metal arm might be her weapon.

"Hey, good to see you," Sheppard sounded like he was talking to a kid, or maybe it was some version of flirting. McKay claimed John flirted with every alien woman they met. Ronon figured that was cover for what the two of them got up to, but still, McKay should know. "Once again, I'm John Sheppard, but you can call me John. What should I call you?"

The young woman looked him straight in the eyes and set her jaw. "I don't care what you call me. Where's the fight?"

"On the Wraith ship, if we find more Wraith." John attached his P-90 to his chest. "But we should cover this water entrance first, to make sure none sneak in behind us." As he opened a side panel to reveal a wheel like on an airlock, he said, "I think I'll call you Ella. You look like an Ella."

Sheppard's habit of naming things was odd, but the way he named Wraith and whatever this woman was, rubbed Ronon the wrong way. There were some things about Earthlings, and Sheppard in particular, that Ronon did not expect to ever understand.

The wheel to close the water access turned out to be stuck. Ronon was deciding whether to break cover to help when the blue and purple woman took over and demonstrated she was stronger than Sheppard. Only then did Ronon fully believe she'd single handedly killed and beheaded the Wraith queen.

#

They called their submarine a "Jumper." They introduced her to their "Leader" Weir and "Head of Science" McKay as if she wasn't a threat. "John" said he'd decided to call her "Ella" as if he had a right to name her.

Not remembering any other name, she agreed to answer to "Ella." She sat quietly and plotted ways to kill them all and steal their submarine. The one called Ronon seemed the biggest threat with his obvious strength, a blaster superior to the other sidearms, a sword on his back, and at least four knives she'd spotted.

Then McKay mentioned that only John could pilot the Jumper, because he had something called ATA. She would have to see about stealing the ATA first.

#

The Jumper was even more crowded with 13 passengers instead of 12. Ronon kept his blaster on stun, but made sure he always had a clear shot, in case their new ally tried anything.

"No life signs in the Wraith cruiser," McKay said from the front.

"Our sensors won't detect hibernating Wraith," Weir said.

"Or those shielded from sensors," Zelenka added. "But if we blow the cruiser where the planet's crust is so thin, the geothermal blast could threaten Atlantis." Zelenka deserved more respect than any of the Earthlings gave him.

Sheppard docked the Jumper and rose from the pilot seat saying, "McKay, Ronon, and Ella with me."

"John," Teyla began, "the Wraith queen had the most powerful mind I've encountered, but she only pushed through because I opened my mind initially."

"I need you to stay here and protect the rest." His gaze took in the people and the Jumper. "I'm trusting you to do that." Ronon agreed with John this time.

#

Rodney shook his head in disgust as they reached the control room of the Wraith cruiser. "She ate her crew."

"Better them than us." John shrugged. "Why's that red light blinking?"

"Not good," Rodney ran the scans he could. "The ship is set to self-destruct, and we need a command code."

"So, figure it out." John slouched against the wall as Rodney's heart raced.

"Of course. Not being a Wraith, I'm sure I can guess the command code. A queen would probably use her birthdate. You know anything about the Wraith calendar? Or look under this console, maybe she wrote it down, just in case she ever wanted to stop her ship from self-destructing."

As John rolled his eyes, Rodney hooked his Ancient scanner to the Wraith console. Nothing came through. "It's all locked down. There is literally nothing I can do. It’s not like I can hack into some half biological hybrid tech. Maybe if we could go back to Atlantis for more equipment, but the timer running here translates to less than two hours."

"Maybe we can use the Jumper to tow it someplace less vulnerable."

"This ship out masses your Jumper by a factor of 300." Rodney threw his arms wide. "Why do you suggest such nonsense. Even if you can't comprehend the physics, I know you can do the math."

"Maybe Teyla could fly it?" John looked at him with big puppy dog eyes, which might work on him during sex, but couldn't change reality.

Rodney sputtered as he pried up another panel. "What part of locked out don't you understand?"

#

Ronon saw Ella approaching the console. McKay and Sheppard were too caught up in their argument to notice. She was doing something with her mechanical hand. He could have stopped her, but the other option seemed to be blowing up. It wasn't worth interrupting his teammates current argument to start a new one about whatever Ella meant to try. He could always stun her if she turned on them afterward.

#

She expected the pain before it hit her. She'd been wired to a ship before and channeled a great deal more power. This time the pain was a raw, half-organic connection. It made her want to vomit, to pull away.

The two men who had been shouting at each other were now shouting at her. She glared at the near one as symbols raced through her mind. Five symbols lined up, and she knew how to deactivate the self-destruct.

It amused her to watch the pale man in front of her turn red from yelling as she waited. The ship they stood on was not designed for water but for space. Quietly she searched the ships systems to see if it could fly. If she could steal a ship like this…

The cruiser had been shot down in battle after hundreds of years of service. She wasn't sure how those years matched any she'd known, but this ship had lain on the ocean floor for thousands of local years after that. The organic components were partially calcified and the power was mostly drained. There was damage to thrusters, weapons, and landing gear. It was amazing they were standing inside it breathing.

She sent the code to deactivate the self-destruct.

The pale man stopped shouting and stared at the viney console with its green lights and no longer any red. He tapped at the other device he'd attached and said, "You did it."

She freed her arm and ran a self-cleaning protocol.

#

They stood in the Gate room. Ronon still had his blaster ready.

Weir said, "We're always happy to find new allies, and we appreciate your help with the Wraith queen and the self-destruct on the Wraith cruiser."

The stare Ella leveled at Weir showed how ridiculous she found that short speech. It made Ronon realize how much he'd acclimated to the Earthlings. In Ella's stare he saw the disbelief he'd felt at first. He saw something akin to a Runner's mindset, someone who had been persecuted and mistreated until that seemed normal. He saw someone who was running away and not to anything, fighting against but not for anything.

Sheppard caught up from where he'd been conferring with his second in command, Lorne. "I promised I'd see you safely to the Gate. What address should we dial for you?"

Ella studied the Gate carefully for a moment giving it a long hard look. "Where would I find more Wraith to fight?"

"Um," Sheppard looked to Ronon. For all his military experience, the man had no experience with warriors like Ella who'd forgotten everything but the fight.

Ronon took that as permission to say, "Could suggest some addresses, but the Wraith live in ships that fly through space. I stayed here because these people find and fight a lot of Wraith."

Weir began, "We'd have to discuss—"

Sheppard smiled and interrupted. "Sure, we could let her hang out a few days. See how it works out."

Both of them were playing the same roles as when Ronon arrived. Back then, Sheppard had needed to accept responsibility for him. "I could be her Taskmaster," Ronon said to Weir. "If you'd have me," he said to Ella.

"That means you'd take responsibility for her, show her around, assess her abilities?" Sheppard asked.

"She'd be my training charge," Ronon said and enjoyed John's furrowed brow and incomprehension. Neither John nor anyone else had ever asked Ronon to explain Satedan military practices and titles.

Weir looked at Sheppard, not Ella or Ronon, and said, "She'd have to pass medical, and we'd need some sort of security arrangements."

Sheppard studied Ronon but answered Weir, "Sure thing."

Ella looked as feral as any Runner. Full of fight but fearing a trap.

Ronon said. "Sheppard promised you safe passage through the Gate when you're done fighting. You can leave any time."

Ella nodded.

"Infirmary first," Weir said with a stiff nod. "Welcome to Atlantis."

#

"Got a minute?" John pressed into the transporter beside Rodney and tapped one of their hook up locations. They weren't even going to wash up first.

"You think this qualifies for 'Thank God We're Alive' sex? Or is there some other occasion I've forgotten?" Rodney engaged the privacy program he used to keep anyone from tracking or surprising them during these encounters. There were advantages to being the smartest man in two galaxies and dating the strongest ATA gene carrier found so far.

John brushed against him on his way out. "Could be 'We Save Everyone's Lives' sex. But we can save that round for later if you don't have time right now."

"I think the pretty cyborg saved everyone this time. You aren't going to run off and hit on her, are you?" Rodney tried to make it a joke, but he was never sure who else John had on the side. As usual, the conversation stopped without an answer as John pressed Rodney up against the closing door in what Rodney called the porthole apartment. The outer curved wall had a row of plate-sized circular windows.

Rodney barely registered all the circular views of blue sky and cumulus clouds as John nuzzled his ear and the corner of his jaw. After almost two years of these encounters, John knew exactly how to get to Rodney. Not that it had ever been difficult considering how hot and slinky the military man was.

They unfastened each other's pants, and John flicked at Rodney's nipple before dropping to his knees. The way that man sucked cock was proof enough he'd had plenty of experience with men despite "Don't Ask, Don't Tell." Not that Rodney could complain there either. He tried not to squeal as John's tongue twisted around Rodney's crown and traced the slit.

Strong hands massaged Rodney's ass as John sucked him a couple inches deeper and hummed. The man's eyes were half lidded. His spiky head bobbed in and out. Even close to fully dressed the Colonel was obviously fit and totally in control, even on his knees. His long, thin cock tented the boxer briefs peeking out from his unfastened pants. He traced a finger down Rodney's crack as his right hand circled around to the base of Rodney's cock.

Try as he might, Rodney couldn't keep his eyes open for this part. It was all he could do not to come at the first firm pull. It had been two weeks, and Rodney never knew if or when this would happen again. The uncertainty left him desperate every time. It also made him hold on to the edge for as long as he could. It was that good.

Too soon, always too soon, Rodney came with a moan. John's grip on his ass kept him standing as he shuddered through every last pulse John could draw out of him.

Then John eased him to the floor. Sitting with his back against the door, Rodney let his mouth fall open. His mind was buzzing. Every part of him relaxed as John fed his cock into Rodney's mouth. He was a wet, welcoming hole for John to slide in and out of for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than minutes. When John gasped, "Suck me, Rodney," the scientist tightened his cheeks. He pressed his tongue along the vein at the base of John's perfect cock. When it hit the back of his mouth, Rodney swallowed. He sucked each time John pulled back and swallowed each time John's crown touched his throat. It was only at the very end that he had the chance to swallow again and again without breathing as John came down his throat.

The military man pulled out almost silently. A few ragged breaths were the highest praise he could give. Instead of fastening up and sneaking out separately, they were safe in the porthole room to enjoy a few minutes of afterglow. John sank down beside Rodney, shoulder to shoulder and leg to leg. Both of them warm, spent, and replete.

When Rodney's radio buzzed, he wanted to fling it away. All he wanted were a few minutes of peace, of basking in endorphins.

"McKay here, what is it?"

"Um, I need you to consult in the infirmary, immediately?" The acting Head of Medicine, Dr. Keller, asked as if it was a question. Rodney wanted to shout her down, but Carson's loss was too fresh.

"I am extremely busy with actual science, surely whatever device you've broken can wait a few hours." Rodney wondered how no one ever noticed when his voice was horse from giving head. They really should keep some water in these hook up spots.

"No, it's—the main medical scanner is presenting information about prosthetics that clearly falls in the realm of science and engineering." At least she sounded a bit more assured as she said it.

Loathe as Rodney was to push himself up off the floor, he couldn't help being curious about the cyborg they'd apparently recruited. "I'll be there in ten."

#

"Leave it," she sprang up from the full body scanner. The weapon newly dubbed Ella understood the requirement for medical certification. But lying flat on her back in front of the mousy doctor and the man with massive hair did not suit her. Dr. Keller and Ronon Dex. Why had she chosen to stay with these people? Something told her she didn't usually have such choices. But she couldn't remember. She couldn't even remember her own name, only Ella, which was infuriating.

The young blond doctor gathered herself and stood her ground even as Ella crowded nearer. "There are signs of injuries no human could survive. Beyond losing an arm and parts of your skull and brain—your whole body burned down to deeper tissues: muscle, tendons, bone. A prosthetic arm is one thing, but your skin was replaced with something fire repellent. Ronon may not be from Earth, but I can't even tell if you started out human. This doesn't identify you as Ancient, ATA positive, or anything in our database. Let me take a blood sample."

Ella pushed her face within inches of the doctor. "No. I am a weapon. My body is honed to that purpose."

Keller was shaking, but she held her posture straight. "You can't see yourself as only a weapon. Do you know if you were born male or female, or was that taken away from you, too?"

The weapon knew herself as a weapon. Everything else was indistinct. But she knew her own genitals. She thought of them as _her_ own. If she couldn't be raped in the usual way or made pregnant, that made her a better weapon. She wasn't distracted by sexual desire or monthly bleeding. Did it matter if she didn't know what was born and what was made? She had breasts even though she was unsure what purpose they served in a weapon. From her first awareness she had expected to be called "she," to be seen and reacted to as female. The rest didn't matter.

#

Ronon didn't expect Ella would hurt Keller. It wasn't in her body language. This display of dominance was healthy. From the start, he'd guessed that Ella had been abused and possibly broken by her training or past fights. To be a good Taskmaster, it helped to know she wasn't broken now. If she saw herself as a weapon, at least for now she'd defend her value as that. He preferred a style of training that didn't leave anyone broken. By the end, she'd need to see her value as more than a weapon, but this was a start.

As for her sex, Ronon had seen the scan. There was no opening, no womb, but also no penis of any size. He'd known a shaman who gloried in being born in between male and female as far as genitalia, but this was something different. Ella had a slight protrusion to expel urine, probably neatly even when standing. He wasn't sure what she would do for sex if she was interested. Ronon personally had no such interest in her, although Keller was looking more attractive to him than usual as the two faced off.

"I am female. The rest is not yours to question. What I know of my past is not your concern," Ella announced.

As her Taskmaster, Ronon would eventually have to clarify what Ella knew and what she wanted in her personal relationships, sexual or otherwise. It would affect her training, who she bunked with, and how she interacted on a team. He also needed to know if what she knew of herself was diminished by injury or some other trauma. But that discussion could wait.

"What was so important you interrupted me?" McKay came in shouting, without concern for anyone else's drama.

"The medical scan results say to follow up with a robotic prosthetics scan." She waved at the screen by the full body scanner. "There's a reference number."

Ella sneered at Keller but turned to stalk around the infirmary as the doctor's attention shifted to McKay and locating an unknown scanner of some sort.

Whatever Keller may question about Ella being human, her body language reminded Ronon of many young warriors he'd known in the Satedan military. She radiated anger and aggression with every precise step and tight movement. But the tension in her muscles looked more like terror than anger to Ronon. She'd stayed for lack of better options, but she could still turn against them. Her body anticipated attack, anticipated pain, even as Ella's eyes skated across labels on supplies and books on a shelf. Her eyes didn't track as if she could read English. No surprise there. Ronon wanted to reassure her, but didn't dare risk alienating her trust by interfering too soon.

"Got it!" McKay shouted. "Follow me." He left without a glance to see if he was followed or if their newly acquired ally might stab him in the back.

Ronon shook his head, an Earth mannerism he'd adopted. That man would never change. Ronon kept a hand near his blaster as he followed McKay and Ella out.

#

The prosthetics lab was several floors below the infirmary, but still in the main tower. Rodney sighed at how many labs were still unexplored over two years into the expedition. He called John for light switch duty as soon as the main console refused to initialize for his artificial ATA gene.

"What is that, a playground?" Rodney threw his hands up as Ella brachiated across bars and climbed a net of shiny silvery ropes. Ronon stood on the ground watching her progress. Of course, they'd both gravitated to what looked like a children's play area in the corner to the right of the door. The nets interleaved to a ceiling that was ten meters high. The human hamster wheel mounted on the wall was scaled for an adult, so logically Rodney had to concede the toys were probably aimed at adults. Given they were in a prosthetics lab, that implied physical therapy. Not that Ella needed a work out. She was at least as strong as Ronon and twice as limber.

Turning his attention past the dozen or more lifeless machines that littered the rest of the room, Rodney started opening cabinets. The first displayed hundreds of screws and pins in different sizes and alloys. Beside that were adjustable molds for skulls, knee caps, and what looked like a carapace for some sort of crustacean. Each mold was set into a thick, deep container that he assumed could adjust the shape and contents as needed.

John came in and immediately went for the giant hamster wheel. He paced it up to jogging and called out, "This is cool!"

"Thank you, Colonel Kindergarten. Could you save playtime until after you initialize the main console so I can get some work done?"

John sauntered over and placed his hands on the room's main console. As it lit he asked, "Anything in particular you're trying to find?"

"Robotic prosthetics scanner. Here's a reference number." Rodney showed John on his tablet.

An image appeared on the console, and John pointed across the room, "Looks like that thing."

"What great insight. Stick around until I know if we need your super gene some more."

The new scanner looked a lot like the full body scanner in the infirmary but with serious restraints available on both sides. Rodney brought up a diagnostic screen and opened the access panel to make sure every sensor and crystal was safe for use after ten thousand years in storage.

He might have been distracted for a while. When he looked around the room again, John and Ella were swinging and jumping across the silver web of ropes. Ronon still watched from below. It was a pretty good show from where Rodney was standing, too. Both John and Ella were very fit and bendy.

Up by the ceiling, John took a long dive and missed his landing. He caught himself by one arm.

Rodney let out an involuntary squawk, but a silver tentacle of net material had already shot out behind John's back. It hovered an inch behind him until his second hand caught where it should have. John hoisted himself up laughing. The safety line, or whatever it was, retracted into a lump on the wall. That was when Rodney noticed all the extra lumps. They could easily be mistaken for anchor points or rock climbing grips.

After taking a deep breath, and then another, Rodney said, "If you're done playing Tarzan, can you come down here and pretend to be helpful?"

Not only John, but Ella and Ronon were at his side in a moment. Needing something for them to do he said, "We need to find this diagnostic tester. It's probably in one of these cabinets." The screen showed a line diagram of a robotic animal shaped like a dog, except its tail was longer than its legs, more like a cat's or squirrel's.

His three minions started opening cabinet doors.

John called out, "Bathroom and shower."

Ronon said, "Weights."

Ella, who Rodney realized hadn't spoken since her argument with Keller, said something that sounded a lot like, "Rocket."

In front of her, the diagnostic tester was curled up in a lower cabinet. At her word, its eyes opened with a flash of green eyeshine. Its tail twitched, and its long white snout pushed forward as if to sniff Ella's hand. It made a noise like a chirp and walked out on four legs.

"Why did you call it Rocket?" John asked.

Ella shook her head and pulled back. The robotic creature followed her. The line diagram hadn't looked nearly so lifelike. In reality, the robot had shiny brown and white fur and moved as if actual muscles connected each joint. Rodney had never seen a robot that moved so much like a real animal. When it reached Ella again, pointy ears twitched as it gazed up targeting her eyes. Sure enough, she instinctively made eye contact with the creature. Forget prosthetics, Rodney wanted to tweak the design to make himself a robot cat.

"It seems to like you," John said.

"It can't like her," Rodney complained. "It's a robot. It's probably programmed to imprint on whoever activates it."

"Maybe it's a guide dog," John said cheerfully, as if he hadn't heard Rodney at all.

"I need it up on the platform to calibrate the robotic prosthetic scanner."

John went over and patted the scanner bed. "Here, boy. Here, Rocket."

Rocket glanced at John but quickly turned its gaze back to Ella. She threw her head back as if annoyed but led it over to the scanner bed. There she copied John's patting motion and said, "Here, Rocket."

Rocket jumped up and lay down on the bed with paws out in front of it.

Rodney started the diagnostic run.

The results showed the composition of each component, including the fake muscles that made the creature so lifelike. It also showed acceptable levels for everything from structural integrity to fur lubricant.

Rodney saved the scan and said to Ella, "Your turn."

"I'm not a…" She motioned at Rocket in contempt.

It wagged its tail and jumped to sit at her feet.

Rodney was ready to tell her how superior Rocket's design was to hers from what he'd seen so far.

John spoke first and said, "Of course not. That's why the scanner did a test run on Rocket, to make sure it was safe and ready for you."

"How do I know he won't use what he learns against me?" Ella asked John.

Rodney had no patience for people questioning his motives or his expertise. "I scan, repair, and run this city. If I had reason to work against you, I could use any number of subsystem throughout Atlantis. Lesson number one on Atlantis, don't piss off the geeks."

Ella showed no fear but looked to John instead. Rodney had a moment of burning jealousy before John looked at him fondly and said, "I tell the new recruits that's rule number three, but it's sound advice. He'll do everything he can to help if you have problems now or later with anything, err, mechanical or whatever."

Ronon stood behind John with his arms crossed and gave a nod.

That was all it took to get Ella up on the scanner. Rocket made a purring noise that sounded more like a cat than anything else.

The top line in the scan results flashed out, "Check for error or substances of unknown origin."

"Oh seriously, I bet Carson—" He choked and froze for a moment. John stepped closer until their shoulders bumped. "I mean, I bet Keller doesn't have to deal with this sort of reading in her squishy biological pseudo-science. Hold still. I need to run a detailed comparison scan."

They all waited silently until the scanner light stopped moving and the unit let out a complicated beeping sound. Rocket trotted over to a nearby wall protrusion that spit out one end of a thin shiny cable. Leaving an almost flat rectangular end safely free of his metal teeth, Rocket took the cord in its mouth and carried it to the scanner where Ella still lay. When Rocket went up on his hind legs to offer her the cable, Ella sat up to examine the end before attaching it to her metal wrist.

Rodney ignored the part of the readout that said Ella needed to recharge her prosthetics. He ignored the evidence that John's stupid guess about robotic service animals appeared to be right. He stared at the screen in shock and a little fear. The possible error from the first scan had resolved into a detailed list of isotopes and distributions that matched no known origin in the Pegasus or Milky Way galaxy. Alien metals and technology interlaced with biological matter everywhere from feet to genitals to brain. Two chemical structures were highlighted that shouldn't have formed without violating known laws of physics. The Ancient scanner flagged them as possible effects from interactions with exotic particles.

Rodney pounded at the console saying, "No, this cannot be happening again. There is no sign of a matter bridge. Even if there was, it would not connect to a defunct mobile underwater drilling platform." He rounded on Ella, and Rocket moved to keep them separate. Ronon also moved closer, as Rodney spat out, "Where are you from? Have you seen another Atlantis or doppelgangers for any of us? For yourself? Why were you sent here?"

"You know you sound crazy?" Ella asked.

John said in his usual relaxed—too slow—way, "Rodney, calm down. What are you worried about?"

"She's been exposed to exotic particles. Her isotopes don't match with known space." Rodney was analyzing and saving test results as he went on. "The last time someone came here from a parallel universe a tear grew that could have destroyed a whole universe." He didn't need to add aloud how miserable alternate McKay's visit had made him personally, but his hands were shaking.

"It's the sending side that would be endangered, right?" John asked.

"The way we did it, yes," Rodney was surrounded by morons who couldn't understand the danger. He was so tired of explaining. "But our goal was to make a safe energy source for ourselves. Who knows what these people want. You think they drop off cyborg assassins wherever they expect a Wraith queen to attack?"

"That would be bizarre, but awesome." John tilted his head and sounded wistful. "Let's go with bizarrely awesome."

Rodney started gathering his materials. John wasn't capable of listening to his concerns yet. "Only if it doesn't destroy our universe and she doesn't need to get back. It cost us two thirds of a ZedPM last time. I'm going back to my lab to run some tests." He waved a hand holding a tablet at Ella as he said, "The scan says you self-repair. Recent repairs to cerebral processors may have wiped some data stores. There's a list of possible upgrades starting with custom artificial skin and ending with infrared vision, if you're interested."

"No," was all Ella said as she hopped off the scanner and set the charging cable aside.

#

Ronon took her to the mess hall. He was hungry. Seeing how Ella responded to Earth food, and what the expedition made from local food stuffs, might be entertaining. The robot trotted at Ella's side, drawing some curious looks away from the purple and blue cyborg in the dinner line. Ronon decided a robot companion shouldn't need to eat. If it did, that was Ella's responsibility to figure out. One's training charge could benefit from such personal responsibilities.

She followed him through the line, choosing the same foods he did in equally large portions. A valid strategy. When they sat down across from each other at a table by a wall with clear sight lines, she ate without the need for conversation. Rocket sat at her feet, surveying the room.

Halfway through eating, Ronon realized he'd grown used to Earthlings who spoke during meals.

Ella used her silverware and ate more neatly than him, even though there was soup, spaghetti, and pudding. She didn't show any reactions and overall wasn't very entertaining. But he could respect her blank façade.

"What McKay said about wiped data stores, that means you lost some memories?" Ronon asked as he mopped up red sauce with his bread.

"Nothing that matters. I have all my skills."

Ronon took that to mean she didn't remember much else, not even a previous name. "You remember anything like having a Taskmaster before?" He needed to know if there were prior assumptions.

"No. What do you want from me?"

The question made Ronon wonder if she'd even chosen to be a warrior, or as she put it, a weapon. "Nothing for me. A Taskmaster identifies potential. I can help you evaluate options. I will plan your training and education and expect you to fight hard, but in the end, you always have choices."

Her stillness suggested distrust.

Ronon didn't trust her yet either. At present, her only allegiance might be to herself. But her hostility was directed toward the Wraith for now. Ronon needed to solidify his position as Taskmaster and not let her see him as a bully or a jailer. Becoming a Taskmaster was considered a mark of maturity on his home planet of Sateda, much like becoming a teacher or parent. Ronon would do his best to live up to the responsibility he'd chosen. "Do you know what you want or expect from me or others?"

"Nothing. I function fine alone." Her tone was neutral.

"That may be. Let me know if you want something anyway." When Ella didn't respond, Ronon decided he'd said enough for the time being.

After showing Ella how to clear her dishes, he led her to his room. He moved his bed from the far wall to the corner in front of the entrance. Pointing to where his bed used to be he said, "You can sleep there. You prefer a bed or something on the ground?"

His training charge looked at the windows above where the bed had been and pointed to the opposite wall. "Bed or floor, but there."

Ronon considered. It gave her slightly better access to the door without passing where he'd sleep. But he'd spent his first twenty Lantean nights sleeping in a corner on the floor behind his bed after years of hiding and camping alone as a Runner. He couldn't fault her choice. "Okay. Come on." He led her out to choose her own bedding, and a bed if she wanted.

#

Ella lay awake in the near dark. Ronon's windows let in starlight. There had been moonlight earlier.

It was not complete darkness. This place felt too large and open, although she couldn't recall having slept elsewhere. She knew she slept on her back. She knew her metal arm belonged on the side by the wall. But she didn't remember why.

Rocket lay on the floor by her bed. She'd taken a blanket for him. These people, who seemed to be called both Lanteans and Earthlings, a distinction she did not yet understand, had an entire room full of blankets, sheets, pillows, and stacked beds. From another room she'd collected an ugly uniform and hygiene items that seemed strange even if she couldn't remember what normal was.

John had said she could leave at will. Ronon had repeated it. But Ronon had somehow taken responsibility for her. She didn't know what a Taskmaster did, but so far, he seemed to both guard her and give her things. She couldn't remember who else she'd shared a room with, but she didn't think she'd ever known anyone like her Taskmaster.

Now if she could only remember how to sleep.

#

Ronon had dozed in sentry mode. When Ella snuck out of the room, she was not as stealthy as she thought. Her training did not extend far in that direction.

Rocket moved surprisingly quietly for a machine. Perhaps it was intended for combat or infiltration. The ways it assisted Ella proved it could serve multiple functions. Ronon set the question aside. He had not agreed to supervise Rocket.

Ella inspected every corner before moving on. She avoided the transporter. Her mental map of Atlantis was good. Without confrontations, she made her way back to the robotic prosthetics room. Whatever she'd been trained for, it included independent operations.

Ronon listened outside the door, blaster in hand. He could tell she was headed toward the nets to the right, not the machines in the back.

"Come inside," Ella said.

He did. They both looked at each other and made no move.

She turned and climbed the rope net to a nest at the top. "I think I could sleep here."

Rocket sat at the bottom watching the door and Ronon.

"I'll grab some bedding," Ronon said. He brought back enough for both of them. When he handed hers up, she didn't hide that her metal arm was connect to a power line as it had been after her scan.

Ronon arranged his bed in front of the door. He could work with Ella as his first training charge. She made more sense to him than most Earthlings.

#

**Day Two**

Sheppard stood in the doorway with Ronon's running shoes in one hand. "Still up for a run?"

It didn't surprise Ronon. When his team leader found Ronon's room empty at their usual meeting time, Atlantis had probably lit a path for him.

The importance attached to shoes was an Earthling oddity. Ronon had given in about running shoes in exchange for no one questioning the rest of his attire, running or otherwise. It was a good bargain.

The way Sheppard asked while handing over the running shoes implied he didn't want Ronon playing jailer either. Atlantis would probably alert Sheppard if Ella did anything to endanger the city. Rocket sat alert at the base of the nets. It might have some allegiance to Atlantis as well.

Ella's eyes were open, even though she hadn't moved from her nest near the ceiling. Sheppard looked like he envied her sleeping arrangement.

"Wait for me to get back. Then we'll get food," Ronon said facing up while he tied his shoes.

Ella's expression didn't change, but he was sure she understood.

As they started out at a slow pace, Sheppard said, "I want to try a new route today. There's a Halloween costume idea I need to check out, and I might need your help carrying stuff back to my quarters."

Ronon only had to say, "Okay." Sheppard never required much in the way of conversation, especially not while running. After two years, Ronon still wasn't sure why Sheppard insisted on the two of them running together. But it was enough to know they both enjoyed it.

#

This woman, Teyla, was much more inventive than the Marines Ella had sparred against earlier in the oddly lit and lined training room. In three rounds, she'd pinned Ella to the hard floor twice.

So far Ronon, Ella's so called Taskmaster, had stood quietly by the wide door with his arms crossed. But Ella knew losing came with consequences.

Her heart was racing for reasons beyond exertion as Teyla offered her a pair of wooden stick weapons. They were similar enough in reach and weight to the electric batons Ella carried that she knew she could master them. She would win this round and convince her Taskmaster of her value. There would be no need to upgrade more of her with robotic parts.

At first, they met each other face on, a quick volley of strikes and parries between the two of them. Teyla was not as physically strong as Ella, but her reflexes were amazing for an unmodified person.

Ella made her hits harder and faster until Teyla ducked one swing and landed a strike on the side of Ella's neck. Suddenly, it was more than a test. Ella needed to survive intact. As intact as she was at least.

Pounding hard and fast, she drove Teyla back toward a column with vertical lights. Ella would prevail this time and prove herself a worthy weapon. She trapped Teyla against the wall, both sticks to her throat. For a moment, the weapon was victorious.

It was a trick. The other woman burst forward, attacking her hands where they gripped the sticks. Those sticks went flying. But the weapon popped out her electric batons. In a moment, the upgraded weapons crossed on her opponent's throat. With a cut off noise of pain, her opponent collapsed.

A glance down to be sure this was no trick. A glance to the man, watching for acknowledgment that she had performed well enough this time.

The man was calling for a medical team. He met her eyes but said nothing as he knelt by the other woman. He checked the pulse at her throat as if he truly cared. That was all wrong.

She took a step back. Her Taskmaster was not like anyone she had known before. Teyla was not like any opponent she had fought before. There were memories she'd lost, but some of what she'd kept might not fit right.

They called her Ella. She stood very still.

By the time a medical team arrived, Teyla's eyes were open. She said, "I am fine." They took her to the infirmary anyway.

Ella was left alone with her Taskmaster, Ronon. He stood watching her.

Finally she said, "I won. I do not need to be upgraded."

Ronon watched her in silence some more.

She dropped to her knees. "Please, tell me what I must do to prove myself."

To her great surprise, Ronon squatted in front of her. His head was still higher than hers, but closer to her level. "You fought well."

Ella was filled with warmth in the flesh parts of her body.

"You need to avoid killing any Lanteans. You can kill as many Wraith as you want. But with humans, wait for orders to kill unless they're trying to kill you. In sparring, agree on weapons first."

"Yes, Taskmaster." She kept her eyes down.

"I won't punish you for rules you don't know."

"I lost two of four rounds."

Ronon shrugged, an ambiguous gesture.

Ella could barely breathe.

"Do you fear being _upgraded_ "—he said the word as if unsure what it meant—"if you lose?"

She nodded without thought.

"No one does that here."

She felt warm again and tingly, in all her flesh parts.

"Even if Teyla had won the round with sticks, you would have done well. Teyla and I can both teach you some things." Ronon stood. The conversation was clearly over.

Ella hoped she could remember it all the next time she fought Teyla.

#

"Eyes on me," Ronon said, which wasn't fair with a new cyborg watching their every move. Reasonable caution and natural curiosity dictated that Rodney should be able to watch her, too. Cyborgs were much more interesting than fighting lessons, and sadly, much rarer.

"You realize it makes no sense that since you started carrying a sword on your back, I'm expected to practice defending against a sword length stick. How likely is anyone else to attack me with a sword or a stick that length? And if they do, statistically my best defense by far would be to shoot them."

Predictably, Ronon hit him in the stomach guard with his sword length stick.

Rodney let out a moan and was infinitely relieved when Weir and Sheppard opened the training room door to interrupt. Sadly, Ronon seemed to expect Rodney to keep focusing on him and their lesson even as they learned about their new mission. Evidently the Taranians had dropped out of contact. Since Atlantis had helped them resettle after a supervolcano exploded on their original planet, they were among the expedition's most reliable contacts and allies.

"We're going to walk two kilometers to check on them?" Rodney complained. The Taranians already knew about spaceships, but Rodney's arguments to fly a Jumper whenever possible were routinely ignored.

In his moment of distraction Ronon hit him in the gut. The protective gear helped, but Rodney still doubled over. As he pushed through his pain to stand up, he caught the cyborg watching him. Rodney was certain she was laughing at his poor fighting ability. "Are we bringing Ronon's new minion?"

"Not yet." Ronon said. When a pair of scary looking fighting sticks popped into cybergirl's hands Ronon said to her, "We'll call for back up if there are Wraith to fight, and you can come with the Marines."

"More likely we'll spend hours listening to excuses for why the Taranians couldn't check in on time," Sheppard said. "Trust me, Ella, you'll have more fun here. I'll set you up to train with Lieutenant Negley's team."

From the fierce set of Ella's jaw, Rodney felt sorry for Negley's team.

#

The creature slammed Ronon into a wall first thing. One giant hand pinned his right arm, knocking away his blaster. Another insectile, clawed hand covered Ronon's entire face. His head was pressed against the wall. His whole team fired on the impossibly fast creature. It had to be part wraith. The way it moved. Its strength.

Ronon pulled the sword from his back and sliced off one offending hand before it fled. The others kept firing, but Ronon barely got in one shot with his blaster before it was gone. They were deep in forgotten corridors beneath what used to be the Taranian settlement. They'd found Taranian corpses piled like refuse in a room along the same hall where they were attacked. But the corpses didn't look like they'd met the violent wrath of the creature that had slammed Ronon into a wall. Something more was involved here.

Weir had checked in by radio before they fought the creature but after they detected its life sign and found the pod it hatched from. She'd insisted on sending the back up team. Ronon wondered how Ella would fare if she fought this new foe. He'd missed seeing her battle with the Wraith queen but knew she was spoiling for a fight.

#

As they walked through shady woods to the supposed Taranian settlement, Ella heard one of the Marines she'd been sparring with say to another, "I don't know whether to treat her like a woman or a robot."

His companion said, "She's Ronon's protégé, or something."

Lieutenant Negley cut in, "Colonel Sheppard ordered us to train and fight with her. Shut up and pay attention."

"Yes, sir."

The fighters here constantly said, "Yes, sir." Ronon hadn't told her to, so she didn't.

As they passed the wheeled robot the Earthlings called MALP, the Lieutenant checked in with Sheppard by radio and was told to maintain radio silence and meet at the settlement.

The next thing she knew, the Gate opened behind them. A pointy gray spaceship flew out. Someone shouted that it was a Wraith Dart as a bright flash of light filled the air all around them.

What seemed only a moment later, Ella was bruised and scrambling across sunny ground a lot harder than where they'd been walking. Similar trees rose in the distance on one side, houses on another, and the Wraith Dart was parked facing toward them. The Marines brought up weapons as monsters snarled in a circle around them. Ella raised her electric batons. There were dozens of tall insectoid creatures with multiple layers of shell or carapace covering their heads and backs. What might be tusks stuck out from their faces. Their hands were skeletal with claws waving in the air.

From behind the spaceship a single humanoid figure emerged. "My army may be held in check if you follow my instructions precisely to communicate with Commander Weir."

"Michael, what are you doing here?" Negley asked. "Where are the Taranians and Colonel Sheppard's team?"

The man he addressed might be a male Wraith. Ella had only seen the Wraith queen, but the spaceship had been identified as a Wraith dart. Michael had the same slits by his nose as the Wraith queen. His skin was a texture and color partway between Wraith green and pale Earthling.

"If you cannot assist me, perhaps one of your men. Or, who's this? Your latest experiment perhaps?"

The Wraith-man called Michael was looking directly at Ella when someone behind her started shooting and the monsters closed in. Sticklike fingers covered her face. Ella struck out and up without thinking.

Blow followed blow. Arms and fingers were blown off. Ella felt a bone in her wrist break and repair. The red blood and flesh of the monsters looked disturbingly similar to the humans' beneath the skin. Ella kept low as bullets ricocheted from insectile carapaces as often as they wounded their targets. In the end, numbers won out. Ella's arms were held immobile by two creatures as Michael called out, "Halt."

The ground was covered with blood and corpses. At least ten of the creatures lay in pieces or bleeding out on the ground, but so did the Marines who had come with Ella.

Michael came around to stand in front of her. His billowing coat showed only one blood splatter and no damage. Clearly he had not been fighting. "You fight to survive, but are you truly allied with these Lanteans? Or are you merely another of their experiments, as I was, before I survived to pursue experiments of my own?"

"Why should I tell you anything?"

He smiled slowly. "My consciousness was erased by a retrovirus the Lanteans tested on me. They called me Michael and tried to remake me in their image. What do they call you?"

Ella suppressed her fear and confusion. Maybe she'd been named by the Lanteans. Maybe her consciousness had been erased. But she had nothing to gain by giving that information away during a fight that was not yet over. Instead she asked, "Are you a Wraith?"

"I was, until the Lanteans did this to me." He opened his arms wide, a gesture too smooth for her to trust. "When the Lanteans left me for dead, the Hive that rescued me judged me unclean. Now I must battle both humans and Wraith. I experiment and build my own army to survive. We are natural allies. If you check in with Atlantis by radio, we could convince them not to send further troops until we are safely away from here."

"What about the other team already here?"

"I will see to them personally, if the rest of my army in the tunnels does not find them first." He glanced toward a small cement structure, probably an entrance to the tunnels he mentioned.

Ella thought of Ronon and the one creature his team had reported when Weir originally called them. "How large is your army?"

Michael paused to let her know he was not giving the information carelessly. "In the hundreds for now, not all on this planet. You saw how fast they are. But you fought better than the humans. Tell me, have they made more like you?"

He was closing in. Ella's arms were still caught tight between two of his monsters. "What do you want me to tell Weir?"

"She won't expect a radio check in from you, will she? Perhaps you could say they sent you back to the Gate to check in while they assisted Taranians who had relocated farther out, with poor radio reception. Do you think she would believe that?"

The way he said the last sentence pressed against her thoughts. It reminded her of the pressure in her head she'd felt briefly with the Wraith queen, but not nearly as strong. She determined to be twice as vigilant against any form of persuasion he might try. "I'm very new, but I could try."

He bent down to remove the radio from Lieutenant Negley's ear. Rubbing his fingers along it he said, "You think you are cleverer than me. Perhaps you are cleverer than them. Either way, you fight well. Whatever they value in you might be a benefit to my experiments. I will allow you to aid me in that way first, and then we will see about an alliance between us."

Michael turned his back and moved toward the round tunnel entrance, still carrying Negley's radio. He motioned for his creations to bring Ella along behind.

When they reached the hatch, one creature moved to help Michael open it. Ella kicked both feet toward Michael's head as she stabbed an electric baton into the soft spot she'd discovered below the creature's chest plate. Her body spun on automatic, bringing both batons to bear on Michael as she kicked the other creature into the hole beneath the round entrance.

Michael fought well, better than Teyla. But until more of his army could reach them, she had the advantage of her electric batons. Slamming one into the weapon Michael tried to pull apparently made his weapon nonfunctional. He still landed two solid hits to her ribs and head before she managed to shove a baton into his eye. As he pawed at that she stabbed the other under his chin and let the electric current flow. His brain was apparently enough like whatever she was used to fighting that he seized and died within seconds.

She had time to be sure he was very, very dead before his army regrouped and started attacking her. After fighting her way through three of them, she scooped Negley's radio from the ground where Michael had dropped it. Hoping it still worked and forsaking radio silence she called out, "Sheppard, Ronon, the team with me is down, and I need help."

"Ella? Where are you?" came Sheppard's scratchy reply.

After another dodge and stab maneuver she answered, "I'm by a group of houses, a round entrance to underground tunnels, and a Wraith Dart. Currently being attacked by an increasing number of creatures created by someone named Michael. The fight should be easy to find."

They replied soon enough with gunfire and Ronon's blaster. They took down the creatures nearest to Ella. Then Ronon checked that Michael was dead as Sheppard checked the Marines. McKay practically shouted at her, "Did he say where the control crystals for the Gate were?"

Ella had deduced that Gates could transport people to different planets instantaneously given the proper address and that most of the local technology involved crystals, but she wasn't entirely sure what McKay was shouting about. Shaking her head, she pointed to the Wraith Dart. "I think he came in that."

There were more creatures closing in from the forest around them. Sheppard said, "Stay by the bodies. I'll sweep you up into the Dart and use it to open the Gate."

She was fighting another monster when she saw the beam of light shoot out from the Wraith Dart and suddenly realized how she'd been transported before. The light took her once again.

#

Forcing Ella to de-brief before her arm had been mended offended Ronon. They'd all been to medical, and Dr. Keller had said the robotic arm needed help she couldn't give. Any other injuries Ella had suffered had self-healed. Ronon also suspected Ella needed to recharge, with her power cord, and could use a very human moment to herself. Her expression had been blank since they'd found her amidst a mound of bodies and body parts.

Placing himself between Ella and Weir at the triangular meeting table, Ronon spread his legs and arms to take up maximum space.

Neither he nor Ella said a word as John laid out the basics, Rodney clarified sensor readings, and Teyla confirmed that she'd never clearly sensed Wraith but something similar had been bothering those senses.

Weir turned to Ella, "I need you to report in as much detail as possible what happened with Lieutenant Negley's team."

By this point, Weir had mostly given up on pushing Ronon to communicate as much as she would like. But he was curious how his usually quiet training charge would respond.

"We were still in sight of the Gate when Sheppard asked for radio silence. The Wraith Dart came through the Gate and used the light that I later figured out was a transporter. We fought with Michael and his army exactly where Sheppard's team found me at the end." The way she reported had clearly been trained into her. The way her shoulders tightened expecting a blow or reprimand at the end reflected improper training, in Ronon's opinion.

"Army?" Weir asked.

"That is what Michael called them. He said there were hundreds for now and not only on that planet."

"What?" McKay squeaked and started tapping at his tablet.

Ella kept her back straight. Her face went from blank to pinched.

#

Everyone around the table looked suddenly hostile. Ella was ashamed of the way she'd started to let her guard down around them. Sitting up straight, she reported as precisely as she could even knowing their anger might be taken out on her. "Michael claimed he needed an army because both humans and Wraith would attack him. He claimed he experimented to create it the same way Lanteans experimented to create him."

"Did he say anything about which other planets?" McKay asked.

"No."

"About how many of those creatures did you and the Marines take out, do you think?" Sheppard asked.

Ella was pleased to find her memory of the fight clear in her mind as she reviewed parts she had seen and heard but ignored while focusing on her own targets. "Twenty-six."

After a pause, Sheppard asked. "How many did you personally kill?"

"Seventeen, but some were already wounded."

There was a longer pause, and Sheppard slouched back in his chair. "A couple of my men showed bullet wounds, none fatal. Do you know how that happened?"

"Some bullets bounced off the harder parts of the creatures, especially around the head, chest and back."

"But you didn't have a firearm, and your taser sticks worked better?" Sheppard asked.

The room was calming down. Sheppard taking charge seemed to make the other relax, at least in this context. Ella didn't understand, but she didn't miss a beat. "My batons did not work on the harder parts either. I aimed for vulnerable softer areas: gut, eyes, inner sides of joints."

"And on Michael?"

Ella was pretty sure John knew. "We exchanged multiple blows, but it ended with one baton in his eye and the other beneath his jaw."

Weir gasped.

Ronon put a hand on the table. His arm stretched like a gate between Ella and Weir.

John and Teyla nodded.

Rodney seemed absorbed in his own work until he filled the silence by saying, "We need to go back. I have reason to believe Michael hacked the Taranian's Gate address out of our database while he was here. There's a good chance a lab or computer in those tunnels will tell where his other experiments were set up."

Weir said, "What do you think, Sheppard?"

"I was considering asking the Daedalus to nuke the planet dead when they get here, but that may not be soon enough." Sheppard rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "We need intel. I'll organize Marines to make a full sweep. We'll plan target areas and attack patterns to minimize risk from ricochet and bring in the Zats and any other energy weapons we have."

Ronon spoke for the first time all meeting. "Ella needs her arm and maybe other parts fixed before she goes out again."

Weir's eyebrows rose in surprise. Perhaps she had not known.

Ella held up her metal arm with visible dents and scratches, including one bullet ding.

"Dr. McKay," Weir said, "I trust you'll see that's taken care of properly right away."

McKay waved the device in his hand as he hurried out of the room. Ronon stood and motioned with his chin for Ella to catch up to the scientist.

#

Ella would not stay on the scanner a moment longer than necessary. McKay did not notice when she left it or when she studied the readouts over his shoulder. The structures of her arm were easy to recognize. False colors marked damage. Looking at a section of stripped wires marked in orange, she knew where they could short out if not replaced. Some also needed to be tightened, and one wire would need to be completely reattached. A section near her elbow marked in bright yellow was mostly smashed. She concluded that brighter colors implied worse damage.

McKay zoomed in on the bright yellow portion. Ella watched how he enlarged and rotated the image, how he brought up diagrams and generated a list of suggested substitutions. There were words in two different alphabets, neither of which she could read, although one looked more familiar than the other. Still, she knew how her arm was meant to be. In most cases, she knew which suggested substitution was correct. When McKay made a wrong choice at the fifth decision point she said, "That's not how it was before."

He jumped, gasped, and spun around. While that showed poor monitoring of people in his surroundings, he recovered without dropping the tablet in his hand or bumping the Ancient console. He was very aware and careful of the technology he used. "You know the technical specifications for your arm?"

"I can't read those languages, but I know the layout. The option one above shows how it was before."

"My choice is more direct." He pointed with either confidence or arrogance.

"It might cause more wear and tear as the elbow bends."

"I can select tougher coating for the wires." He brought up a second list of options. It was all words without pictures.

"What are the tradeoffs?"

"A little less flexible, but well within specs. It would decrease the chance for this sort of damage in the future." He brought up a graph comparing properties of different materials that mostly made sense to her on some level.

"I can change it back if there are problems?" Ella asked.

"That's the best part about machines." He patted the console proudly.

"McKay," Ronon spoke just the name from his position by the door.

McKay jumped, gasped, and spun again. "What's your problem?"

"Ella is not a machine. She's a person."

It was an odd distinction to Ella, and she was surprised that Ronon spoke up. What McKay said about machine parts being easier to change and change back was true. On the other hand, the part in question could not repair itself, or heal the way her biological parts could. It was unclear what the materials involved had to do with being a person. "I can be a person and also a machine."

"Exactly," McKay said. "Is that a common understanding where you come from?"

"I don't remember, but it seemed obvious to me. What else do we need to decide?"

#

By the time they finished programming designs and then installing the fabricated parts, McKay was sure Ella understood more about engineering and electronics than she realized. She performed heat and power calculations in her head without needing to be told the formulas, and could analyze material science options for alloys that were not present in her body. "I thought you only cared about killing Wraith and whatever—monsters like those things today?"

"I can be a weapon and also be interested in science." The way she said it reminded him of Data in Star Trek, but that didn't bother him as much as the cold expressions of some Marines.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you interested in science? Beyond fixing your parts or creating better weaponry, are you actually interested in science?"

Her eyebrows rose, just like those on a human from Earth might rise in incredulity. "Science underlies everything. How could I not be interested?"

Rodney wanted to visit where she came from. He wanted to find the subroutine in her brain that made such truths so obvious she barely understood his questions. Then he wanted a way to download it into others. "Your military must be very different than ours. Do you know what languages you can read?"

"I have seen something like that." She pointed to one set of letters on the screen.

"That's English, an Earth language. Here, write something. Use your finger on the screen."

He set his tablet to graphic matching mode and handed it over. She wrote neatly in characters he'd never seen, and passed it back.

"What does it mean?"

"Danger."

Rodney didn't care what life experience would make that her first word in sharing communications. He sent it to a translation program Daniel Jackson had started to cover all languages the Stargate program encountered. "No match," he said, as he entered the translation and that the origin was unknown. "I can set you up with basics science texts and a text to voice program. The Gate translation will cover it from there."

"The Gate translation is why I understand everyone here?" Ella asked.

McKay nodded absently, already selecting what he wanted for Ella's science training.

"Does that mean I must have passed through a Gate before I arrived on the drilling platform?"

It pained McKay that he'd missed that implication, although he would never admit it. He'd been with the program long enough to take Gate translation for granted. "Evidence so far, suggests you passed through a matter bridge from an alternate universe. Given the power requirements and exotic particle risks, I'd assumed we couldn't send you back. But none of my theories suggest you would have passed through a Stargate to get there. So either you passed through Gates in your alternate universe similar enough that the Gate translation works here, or the device that brought you was made by the Ancients with their translation protocols built in. If it's the latter, that makes it slightly more likely that we could find a way to send you back." He kept to himself the concern that it made other visitors from her alternate universe more likely. The long-range scanners were already set to notify him if any new life signs appeared on or near the mobile drilling platform.

"I do not want to go back."

"How can you know if you don't remember anything?" McKay asked, thinking her response was illogical and wondering how much of her brain was biological.

"I know myself."

It was one of those statements other people made that Rodney couldn't make sense of. It didn't matter if the people were aliens or not. But he tried not to show any reaction in the moment. All he said was, "I won't make that research a priority then."

#

Ella watched Ronon's silent communications to Sheppard, trying to learn. She couldn't watch Sheppard directly because he was behind her in the Taranian hallway. They were in a box formation with Ronon more or less beside her in the front, McKay in the middle, Sheppard behind her, and Teyla behind and diagonally across from her. There were a dozen other teams with assigned routes to assure a complete search of the underground base. Their team, at McKay's insistence, would be the one targeting an electromagnetically blank zone. The scientist was certain Michael's tech and records would be somewhere in that zone.

"Yes," McKay whispered too loudly as they busted through a metal door, "we're inside the EM shielding. I think I know where the lab is, based on the shielding and power signatures. Oh shit. There's a room up ahead with a lot of life signs."

The life signs in question were behind another locked metal door. This time Ella saw Sheppard's gestures for Ronon to open the door and fire at will. Ella nodded when she understood his motion for her to block the other side. She pulled out her electric batons and prepared to fight monsters.

Sheppard and Teyla took cover a little farther up the hall, protecting McKay for his next role in the mission but also covering Ronon and Ella.

Ronon forced the door. Before it opened all the way he was firing his blaster full out.

The first creatures Ella electrocuted were badly maimed. They had been crowded in the room so tightly that those in front couldn't dodge Ronon's blasts. Those farther back didn't hesitate to use the walking wounded for cover.

One used his comrade as a shield. He passed through the door completely uninjured but facing away from Ella. She jabbed a baton into his softer mid-section as she finished doing the same for one nearly dead on the ground.

The standing monster screamed and shoved the corpse he was using as a shield straight into Ronon before rounding on Ella lightening fast. She blocked the armored fingers that reached for her throat. He kicked to trip her. She shifted her legs to tangle his. They went down with him on top, but her robot arm was strong enough to push off the ground. They flipped over as she shoved a baton in his eye. His red blood sizzled around her baton. He roared.

The new surfaces on her robotic arm felt the splattered gore of eyeball and brain almost the way her organic skin did. She couldn't let the sensation distract her. The creature flailed at her, and she pulled her legs up to help pin its long arms as she finally pushed her second baton into its gaping maw. Its brain steamed and stank as it fried.

Without thinking she flipped up to pounce on another mostly intact monster that made it past Ronon's blaster. Shots from Sheppard's P-90 passed very close, and she realized he hadn't expected her maneuver. Ronon had adapted to her faster. But she was happy enough that Sheppard managed not to shoot her. Teyla was finishing off a creature that had made it farther down the hall as Ronon called out, "Clear."

Without discussion, they resumed their box formation, following their path toward the energy signals McKay detected. "You realize I can fight too," McKay muttered as they went. "It's only natural you want to protect my brain as the best chance of finding and finishing off all the super-Wraith, but—"

"Quiet, Rodney," Sheppard said in a distorted parody of his usual voice, "we're hunting super-Wraith."

McKay huffed but stopped talking.

Ella wiped her newly patched robotic elbow against the TAC vest they'd insisted she wear. She'd declined a uniform jacket for fear it would limit her movements in a fight. But the unfamiliar sensation of sticky drying blood was annoying her much more on the arm that didn't used to feel such minimal sensations. On the other hand, it didn't look scratched up the way the older metal on her forearm had. The internal forces and weight hadn't changed, nor had her effectiveness as a weapon.

#

When they found Michael's lab, Rodney headed right for the computer equipment. "That sneak-thief! He stole this from us. Or from what we gave to the Taranians. This is Earth tech."

The rest of the room was full of jars and bottles on dingy shelves. Something like a hospital exam bed was partially raised at the center of the room. Rodney shivered to imagine how it might be used as he worked and his team searched and secured the room.

"He marked the vulnerable points." Ella hovered behind his shoulder and pointed to the fault lines marked on what appeared to be a diagram of the creatures they'd been fighting, or at least a fairly recent and similar attempt. "His notes on his army could help us plan against them or refine our weapons."

John came to look over Rodney's other shoulder. "Good observation. I hear you also helped with the upgrades on your arm."

It was hard not to resent it when John praised Ella. Rodney wasn't sure if John was flirting, wasn't even sure if they were exclusive. They never talked about what they did. And whatever kind words John managed were very rarely directed at Rodney. For a long time, Rodney had thought whatever relationship they had, possibly what others called friends with benefits, should be enough. He knew better than to expect emotional attachment to follow sex, and he'd thought he could be happy with whatever he got. Apparently, he wasn't quite as rational about such things as he'd thought.

"I think the outer structure on the patch is better than what I had before." Ella tapped the patch by her elbow and stared at where she'd touched. "More sensitive to location of touch, especially light touch. It might be beneficial if I replaced the whole outer surface." Rodney forced his focus back to the lab they were exploring and what might be useful information on the repair materials for Ella's robotic arm.

"There you go McKay. You can train another team member to both do science and fight." John had wandered away as he spoke. Before Rodney could react, John spit out, "Is that what I think it is?"

Rodney turned instinctively at the tone. John was a master of sarcasm and sounding unaffected, but Rodney could tell when the Colonel tried too hard to sound calm. Now John's eyes were fixed on a large insect in a glass container. He must be flashing back to when he was bitten, or when he'd partially transformed later on. Rodney instinctively moved to touch him, as if they were the sort of lovers who reassured each other in public.

Luckily, Teyla reached John faster. She stepped in front as if to study the insect. Rodney saw how she mostly blocked John's view. "It is not an Iratus Bug, although it is similar. Ronon, have you seen or heard of something like this?"

Ronon pushed his way in, effectively trading places with John. "Never. Think Michael made it?"

Rodney had found the list of planets Michael had visited. "He put DNA from Taranians into Iratus bugs. He has more supplies and more of his so-called army on two other planets. Each of them has a lab like this but the other two had no local population."

"Then we can nuke 'em into the ground." John sounded more blood thirsty than usual. It did things to Rodney he didn't want to think about when John showed any hint of vulnerability.

"I still think we should nuke this place after we're out. Just to be sure," Rodney said as he saved files and collected any storage devices that might be useful.

"The Taranians who were off world wish to return," Teyla recited primly. "They lost one home already and barely agreed to stay away an extra week while we monitor for any creatures we may miss in this sweep."

"I'll let you use my blaster to fry the bug," Ronon said, clearly to John. It was the first time Rodney had ever heard Ronon offer up his blaster.

"Will we need a sample?" Teyla asked.

"I have the records," Rodney said. "Let him shoot it."

John nodded at Ronon and held the blaster in steady hands as he aimed at the bug. It would have looked ridiculous if John's face wasn't deathly serious, his jaw set and eyes focused on nothing but that bug.

There was no bug left after one blast.

#

Only Ronon accompanied Ella when they returned to the robotic prosthetics lab after the battle. Rocket came to meet her, but went to run in the giant wheel when Ella told him to "go play." McKay had been transparently eager to go elsewhere. Probably he wanted to comfort Sheppard in ways he couldn't after they found the bug in Michael's lab. Ronon wasn't sure if Sheppard knew how to accept comfort. He understood coping mechanisms. That's why he let Sheppard borrow his blaster to destroy a big bug. He understood what the Marine's called "thank god we're alive" sex, and guessed Sheppard and McKay could at least manage that. Ella had promised to call McKay if she needed help fixing her arm. It wasn't clear if she knew what she'd be interrupting.

The way she set to scanning her own arm and then fabricating and replacing parts, it didn't look like she needed McKay. Ronon wondered how much of that was training she couldn't consciously remember and how much came from learning very fast. He didn't have to understand what she was doing or how exactly a cyborg worked to know her learning, thinking, and emotions might be different from anyone he'd known before. Ronon assumed that about everyone anyway.

But as her Taskmaster, he had a certain responsibility to learn about her and see to her training. "You feel anything about all that killing?"

There wasn't any startle or motion to acknowledge his words. As Ella put down her current tool, what might be a tiny welding torch, and picked up a long needle device she said, "Emotionally, no. The sensations on the new part of my arm were different. I didn't let it compromise my performance."

"You have any emotions about killing?"

"I don't remember killing anything but Wraith, or partial Wraith. Should I feel bad about killing them?"

"Not necessarily." Ronon didn't feel bad about killing Wraith anymore. The first few times, before his people were slaughtered and the Wraith spent years hunting him for sport, he'd had mixed feelings. "Let me tell you a story commonly passed down by Taskmasters." Most Satedans probably heard it as children, but there was a long tradition of Taskmasters using traditional stories to illustrate a point.

As Ella replaced another piece of her arm, Ronon took a deep breath and brought forward his best storytelling voice. "There once was a boy named Nornez who was always scrappy and strong for his age. One day, Nornez came upon three older girls and a boy beating on a scrawny little boy called Stinev. The bullies gave Stinev a chance to give up and admit they were right. But Stinev shouted 'never!' and threw another punch. When Stinev was knocked to the ground and about to get pummeled, Nornez stepped in to fight the bullies. Stinev regained his feet and rejoined the fight shouting, 'You will never win so long as good men stand up against bullies!' The bullies ran away."

There was a natural pause there. Ronon checked to make sure Ella was listening while she worked. He could tell by a quick flick of her eyes his way that she was curious about his story as well as whatever she was doing to her arm. "Years passed. Nornez saw Stinev get into many fights he couldn't win, sometimes not even with Nornez's help. But he never saw Stinev lash out at someone who didn't deserve it. He never saw Stinev give in to a bully or turn away from someone who deserved help. When Stinev finally grew into a man large enough to fight his own battles, Nornez stayed by his side. When Stinev joined the Satedan military, Nornez joined along with him."

Ronon stopped to fetch himself a cup of water. Making your listeners wait was a time-honored tradition in Satedan storytelling. He brought water for Ella, too. "There came a day when a commander said to Nornez, 'You deserve your own command. You cannot always stay in the shadow of your friend.' Nornez said, 'Stinev is not merely my friend, he is my conscience. I am not living in his shadow. I am the mirror that reflects his choices for him to see more clearly.' Once the commander understood those strengths unique to each of them, he knew to keep them together and how better to assign them. They eventually rose to the highest command in the Satedan military, together. My people honored them both as heroes."

For a long time, Ella was quiet. Rocket came back to lie quietly at her feet. She seemed to be replacing every surface on her arm, little by little. The new metal looked nearly identical. At last she said, "I feel no regret at any of the killing I remember. Perhaps that means I need a conscience. I did feel something when Michael compared his experience to mine. But I did not see either of us as a mirror. I knew he was trying to manipulate me. His creatures had already killed the team I was with. It was easy to put aside whatever I felt until after the fight."

"What do you feel about Michael now?" Ronon asked as neutrally as he could.

"Better I should ask you what you feel about him. You have more facts. I have only his version."

Ronon respected the thinking and skepticism Ella demonstrated, but he needed to assess her emotional state to know what sort of warrior he was training. "Tell me how you felt first."

"I was confused and uncertain. He said the Lanteans erased his consciousness, gave him the name 'Michael,' and tried to remake him in their image. That worried me, frightened me. I don't think he had any way to know I'd been found with no memory and given a name. Would you tell me if I was a Lantean experiment?"

The emotions she described sounds reasonable. If they were a bit self-centered, that might be due to seeing Michael as a monster and herself as more than a weapon. Assuming she was telling the truth, it was reassuring to know she felt so much and was willing to admit it to him. What could have sounded like a lack of empathy around killing might instead reflect complex reactions to Michael's manipulations and justified concerns about her new allies. He offered what reassurance he could. "I would not assist in such a deception or agree to be your Taskmaster if you were a Lantean experiment. You may have little reason to believe that now, but in time I hope you will."

"I asked if he was a Wraith. It reassured me when he said he started as a Wraith. You had warned me it might upset people here if I killed humans. I didn't want to upset them. But by that point I would have killed Michael even if he had started out human. He was building an army of monsters and as good as said he wanted to kill both Wraith and humans. He claimed both Wraith and humans had tried to kill him. But I hadn't, and he was clearly willing to kill me. If I'd found him when he'd been left for dead, he might have persuaded me to be his ally. Part of me could feel sorry for him. But when he suggested I could help with his experiments, I thought he would use me, with or without my consent. That made me feel sick." She looked down at a tool she'd been rolling in her hands as she spoke. Unless she was trained or programmed to fake emotions, Ronon was pretty sure from her tone and body language that she honestly felt sick, much as he did, at both the sorts of experiments done to Michael and what he may have meant to do to her. Seeing that sort of empathy and insight assured Ronon that she could be much more than a weapon. "I may need a conscience like the person in your story. But I don't want to always be that way. I want to understand enough to make good decisions for myself."

"I will strive to help your reach that goal." He moved to stand across from her at the table of tools by the scanner. "It is not a secret to those on our team that I disapproved from the beginning of the experiment that created Michael. Perhaps I should have done more to stop it at the time, but I was new to this place and these people. They still do many things I do not understand. It is one thing to be able to live with the decisions we make for ourselves. It is another to force a stop to decisions others make that you are almost certain will turn out badly in the end. I have never been a top military commander. While I may have known better than Sheppard in the case of Michael, I think his initial judgements about you were more accurate than mine."

"You would have killed me?" She hid any trace of emotion as she asked.

"I was ready to kill you, but no. I would have questioned you more, among other options."

"I would have too, in your place." The way she stood still and said it to his face was either very brave or hid whatever she was truly feeling. He could respect either.

"I don't expect anyone to be perfect or to agree on objectives or tactics all the time. I killed my own Taskmaster against my Satedan oath, and I didn't tell the Earthlings. It was the right thing to do but at the wrong time." He crossed his arms, knowing this was far from any story his people would tell to a training charge. "There is an Earth rule about disobeying unlawful orders that I would add to the Satedan oath if I ever asked you to swear it. Put simply, I do not believe anyone should be only a weapon. If I or anyone else ordered you to do something unlawful or unethical, I believe it is your duty to disobey. I did not disobey or do anything to stop my Taskmaster when I realized he was betraying my people. I feel guilty about that. While I regret the experiment done with Michael, I'm not sure I should have disobeyed more than I did. There are times when commanders have to make impossible decisions. Sheppard may play the fool or choose not to kill when my training says that is foolish. I fight on Sheppard's team despite these differences, because I think he has the spirit of Stinev, to stand against any bully. He needs his team to fight on his side but also to help him reflect on what he does. If at some point you object to either Sheppard's orders or mine, you can choose to leave or to refused those orders. I do not plan to give you reason to try to kill me or anyone here, but at the very least, I hope you'd try to act as our mirror first."

"I'd like to study the Satedan oath, and the Earth oath."

Ronon let himself shake his head before saying, "The Satedan oath was short and meant to be memorized. The Earthlings have different oaths for different groups and most come with longer contracts that are meant to be read, signed, and partially ignored. The largest military group here, of which Sheppard is a member, has many rules about sexual relations, which may not make any sense to you."

"I know about sex." Ella did not seem uncomfortable with the subject, at least in the abstract and not relating to herself.

Ronon let out a huff to indicate the absurdity of what he was about to relay, even though he thought she needed to know in order to protect Sheppard's position. "They actually have a code called 'don't ask, don't tell.' It says that if they're having sex with people of the same sex, they aren't supposed to ask or tell. This seems nonsensical to a Satedan. The part it took me longer to understand is that even if Sheppard doesn't tell and no one asks, there's an unspoked rule that he won't be promoted or might not be defended as well if others even guess that he prefers men. That said, I think many here know that he has sex with McKay. I say this to you now as an example of Earth things you don't want to get involved in or even discuss until you understand them very well. But you may always ask me. I would also caution you against signing your name or putting anything on paper for them."

"I'll take your advice on that for now. I'm not sure I will stay long enough to understand these people." She ran another scan of her arm before sayings, "Dr. McKay says Michael learned about the Taranians, other planets he's using, and the method of his experiments from some database here."

"Does that make you want to leave?"

"I don't feel safe with these people. But I think I felt less safe before."

Ronon wondered at how her memory worked, how much had been erased and how much she didn't want to remember. "What would make you feel safer?"

Ella smiled in a frightening way Ronon hadn't seen since the day they first found her. "Killing the Wraith queen, Michael, and Michael's creations made me feel safer." She paused the way Ronon had in his story and then let her smile fade. Somehow, she looked happier without it. "Working on my arm did, too. Not because it became a better weapon. It became more my own, and I like what I made. Do you think Michael felt that way about his experiments?"

"I would ask instead how he felt about killing the Taranians as part of his experiments."

"I would refuse an order to do that."

"I am glad to be your Taskmaster."

#

That night in her nets, Ella's muscles seemed to ripple with tension. Her long conversation with Ronon had left her feeling calm and included at the time. Now it felt dangerous, like she was trusting him too much too fast. She couldn't remember exactly why, but she felt ashamed for accepting his reassurance after her sparring match with Teyla or for appreciating Sheppard or McKay's praise for her scientific efforts. Her body practically vibrated now, on the edge of panic.

She reached for the wall, planning to slide her hand across until she found the lump that became her power cord. Instead, the power cord found her hand.

Her refurbished arm allowed her to interface with the city. Ella wondered how similar her abilities were to those of ATA gene carriers.

After connecting the power cord to the surface of her arm, she lay back onto cables that self-adjusted to support her hips, back, head and extremities. As her body calmed and relaxed into them, the cables adjusted in turn. Something squirmed along her thigh and came to rest at the grove between her hip and her groin. A spark went through her as she remembered what else electricity could do.

Below her, Rocket stood guard at the base of the climbing nets. Ronon slept on bedding he'd placed by the door. She could tell by his steady slow breaths that he was sleeping.

Carefully, Ella guided the second power cord beneath her sleep shorts to a contract point where a clitoris might once have been. A ferro-ceramic shield reinforced the area, in place of a pubic bone and what would have been below it. But the nerve endings and underlying parts of the clitoris were still present. Ella knew that like she knew her own arm.

The cord Atlantis provided gave her no control over the flow of electricity, except the new interface with Atlantis seemed to offer more than enough feedback. The vibrations inside her started out gentle. Her nerves tingled and she twitched in response. Even those first moments felt good in a way Ella had forgotten existed.

Her heart beat faster. Endorphins eased the small pains the battle and her later tension had left in flesh parts of Ella's body. She smiled. Her skin flushed. It was natural to keep silent, but she wanted to groan or purr in pleasure.

The charge increased. The vibrations and stimulation she felt increased in turn.

Ella's skin grew sensitive to the shift of her night clothes across her bare skin. She used both her flesh and robotic hands to pet the newly sensitive skin. Her original charging cord gave her enough range of motion to touch herself anywhere. Cupping her breasts, circling her nipples sent bright light flashing through her brain. She was coming before she knew it. Pulses of pleasure radiated from her groin though her breasts and down her legs.

Her entire body quivered as the electrical stimulation eased but didn't stop completely. Her thoughts were slow and cloudy. When her flesh hand shifted, her sleep shirt shifted with it. Ella realized her skin was tingling and starving for more touch. She stroked herself lightly from her collar bone down, tracing every rib, circling her belly, skirting around the area where power still teased.

It was as if she could feel parts inside herself swelling. Ella bent her legs upward so she could pet her inner thighs. Something inside her repositioned in some amazing way. She didn't dare move. The pleasure was building again. There was nothing to push into, no way to chase that sensation. All she could do was hold her position, let her body align just so.

The pulses and vibrations increased. Her whole body was shuddering slightly. Her mind held her there as much as her body. This was the best thing she'd ever felt and she wanted it to last forever. Nothing else seemed real. Her body had never felt so real.

The sensations burst over her. There was too much pleasure to contain. It filled her in waves.

Somehow the power adjusted. The cables holding her adjusted. They kept her orgasm going beyond her own endurance, until she wasn't sure if it was one orgasm or a second triggered by the first.

When that extra power cord retracted and pulled itself away, Ella couldn't move. Her body was jelly. Every shift in the air or in her net set off waves of sensation, demonstrating all she could feel. Endorphins left her believing in peace, goodness, and safety. The nest around her seemed to wrap more securely. She nestled into every touch. Like a cradle, the cables began to rock minutely, just enough to keep her skin reactive, her nerves firing as much as she could appreciate. Sleep crept around her like a refuge for once.

#

**Day Three**

Ronon was ready this time when John showed up at the robotics lab. Ella had just taken over the attached shower, and John took her absence as an opportunity to run a hand across some anchor points that sprouted cables for her nest. Nothing lit up, but Ronon didn't doubt that Atlantis sensed John's interest.

Then they ran like Wraith Darts were chasing them. Ronon could tell the Colonel hadn't found any relief after losing a team of Marines and discovering that ugly bug. By the end of their run the only topic John had mentioned was his plan to take out Michael's second base. Ronon had grunted his support.

#

Rodney didn't like mornings. He especially didn't like mornings when John had avoided him the night before. It made Rodney feel like a fool for looking for the Colonel. It wasn't like he could guess what the man wanted. It wasn't like John would ever tell him. He'd find Rodney when he wanted him, and it was ridiculous for Rodney to second guess anything about his emotions or whatever kind of relationship they had.

Intent on filling his largest mug with coffee, Rodney almost missed seeing the Goki berry muffins. Once he saw them, he rushed over to gather four muffins. Then he took his coffee and muffins to a small table in the corner and bit in eagerly. The tangy berries burst on his tongue as the sweet muffin dissolved around them. Rodney hummed happily as he let his eyes drift closed while sipping his coffee. The bitter richness of coffee flowed over the other tastes in pleasing combinations.

"Taste is different from other senses, isn't it?"

Only years of experience kept Rodney from spilling his precious coffee. While he might be easy to startle, his hands kept steady for anything important—including coffee. He opened his eyes to see Ella had taken the seat across from him, Rocket at her feet. Her tray seemed to include a sample of every item offered for breakfast this morning. That included a Goki berry muffin that she picked up and bit into as he watched.

She closed her eyes and smiled, looking incredibly young for a moment. As she finished chewing she said, "The tastes go all over my mouth, like the sour and sweet parts are taking turns activating sensors. And saliva carries the flavors around, mixing them up. The sensory input keeps changing, keeps the sense of taste activated and appreciating. When I look at something, the first glance is almost always the most interesting. But with taste, it can just keep going and going. Even in one food, there are different parts to the flavor. Then different food are served together. As long as I'm paying attention to what I eat, taste continues to be satisfying."

"I'm not awake enough for this." Even as Rodney said it, his mind was spinning its own tangents. He did enjoy food, perhaps more than most, both for taste and for comfort. Wondering if taste was a more pleasurable sense than others wasn't the sort of conversation Rodney usually pursued, but Ella's interest sounded almost scientific. "How do I know you experience taste the same way I do, anyway? How much of your sensory processing is organic?"

Ella hummed as she sipped what appeared to be hot chocolate with marshmallows. Then she licked some froth off her lips. "The inside of my mouth is all organic. I don't think the robotic parts of me were meant to experience pleasure. But touch from my robotic bits flows through parts of my organic brain that react with pleasure, so I guess I can't say anything is purely one or the other. Do you think any other person experiences taste exactly the way you do?"

"Of course not. Humans are incredibly complex, and while I'm not an expert on taste buds and the variations in input, I know enough about neural nets to know how much variation there is system to system. That's without taking into account genetics, barely a science so far, and psychology, not a science and never will be. But I'll admit that having a citrus allergy impacts my enjoyment of many foods, and my positive associations with chocolate probably reaches beyond the effects of theobromine and sugar." He took a sip of his coffee as Ella held up her mug of hot chocolate.

"This is chocolate, and I can't remember if I ever had it before. But I like it. I like the sweetness. The marshmallows are even sweeter, enough to provide a contrast in taste as well as texture, but the chocolate is more complex. It tastes different when I sip it after eggs or sausages than after the muffin, but I like the flavor combined with everything so far. Do you usually close your eyes and make noises while tasting?"

Rodney huffed. "I thought I could enjoy my breakfast alone. Now my coffee is already getting cold."

Ella bit her lips and her eyes opened wider. Her face was much more expressive than he remembered it being before. "Sorry? I just discovered that taste was so good, and you seemed to be enjoying it, too. But I didn't want to stop you. Should I go away? Would it help to reheat your coffee?"

She was pointing to the microwave where someone had probably shown her how to heat milk for hot chocolate. He hoped she'd been taught to make it with milk and not water. The quality of the chocolate wasn't something he could rectify without breaking into his own private stores, which she probably wouldn't appreciate anyway. Still, the idea that amnesia gave her a chance to taste chocolate anew was a benefit he hadn't considered before. The thought that she might come from an alternate universe without chocolate was too terrible to contemplate at this hour.

"It's not that cold yet," Rodney conceded. "You don't have to go away, but could you at least be quiet for a minute?"

Ella nodded and started sampling bites of food from around her tray, sometimes with her eyes closed.

Rodney settled in to enjoy his coffee and Goki berry muffins. He kept his eyes open and tried not to make the sort of sounds others teased him for. But the sharp berries seemed even more complex and he was even more aware of the contrast to the cake around them and his coffee after everything Ella had said.

#

In the minute that she was asked to eat quietly, Ella considered what McKay called associations. It made sense that memories would attach and be triggered by a sensory input as strong as taste. Ella wondered what that would be like and if it would make the amazing array of tastes before her less astounding or more. She also wondered why she was so aware of taste now when she'd eaten mostly to sate her hunger for the previous few meals that she could remember. Could it be that awakening her sense of touch the night before had made her more responsive to taste? She didn't notice any difference in her hearing, sight or smell.

When the timer in the digital part of her processing said an Earthling minute had passed, Ella asked, "Do you find touch and taste distracting for longer durations than other senses?"

"You timed a minute, didn't you? Fascinating."

Ella didn't see why that would be fascinating. Either McKay was being sarcastic or it was part of his fascination with her cyborg status. She waited.

"Touch and taste are both triggered when we eat, as is smell. I don't think of them as more distracting or distracting for longer, but maybe more intense and ambiguous. Sights and sounds vary along dimensions that are more easily mapped and quantified."

"Being easily sorted makes them easier to dismiss," Ella suggested. "But it's more than that. Being touched for a while seems to make me more sensitive to touch later, and maybe to taste. Does it work that way for you?"

McKay took another bite of his muffin but appeared to be thinking. The tight lines beside his eyes relaxed as he chewed, and she wondered if that was in response the flavor or some memory in his head.

Finally McKay said softly, "I think there are better people to discuss this with than me. But I think you're onto something. Touch, taste, and maybe smell may be associated more with comforting, with private experiences, with small pleasures. How aware we are of them may vary more than with vision or hearing, because we rely on those senses all the time. It's possible you optimized to process vision and hearing when you were dealing with an unknown and potentially dangerous situation. If other senses seem more prominent and distracting now, that might mean you're ready to settle in and enjoy your new circumstance." The relaxed look on his face was abruptly replaced with his more customary wrinkles and tension. "Or maybe it's some cyborg issue and we should run some diagnostics. Excuse me, I've got to go."

McKay picked up his coffee and shoved the last of his muffin into his mouth. Ella doubted he spared the attention to enjoy it as he rushed after Sheppard who was leaving the mess hall.

#

After eating alone to avoid interrupting what looked to be a somewhat personal conversation between Ella and McKay, Ronon went to bus his tray. Weir rose without her tray from a table nearby. Experience told him the best choice was to listen to whatever lecture she'd planned out in her head.

"Ronon," she began, "I wonder if you've given any thought to finding Ella some female mentors." Weir's glance over toward Ella and McKay was pointed.

Ronon missed the next several sentences in her speech as he tamped down his anger at her presumption. Even if she was in command of the expedition, he was Ella's Taskmaster. Of course, he'd thought about diverse mentors and made sure she met various people. While Weir probably thought Teyla an obvious choice, it had been clear when they sparred the day before that Ella would not be inclined to open up to Teyla. Although Ella was female, that factor didn't seem to matter in her reactions to others, possibly because everyone here was so alien to her or possibly because of her unique physiology. While sparring with the Marines, there'd been no sign she thought of the one female she defeated, Lieutenant Cadman, any differently than the males she defeated. Still, Cadman would be a logical choice to spend time mentoring Ella for other reasons.

As Weir's speech wrapped up with some generality about "young women blossoming when offered female role models," Ronon saw McKay rush to catch up with Sheppard who was leaving the mess hall.

He grumbled, "On it." Then he left before Weir could say anything more specific. He cornered Sheppard and McKay in the hall.

"Think Ella could train with Lorne's team? Cadman could teach her to blow shit up?"

"Is that really a good idea?" McKay asked.

Ronon crossed his arms and only scowled a little. "Weir's idea. Female role models or something."

Sheppard's smirk showed he understood that Ronon had planned this independently of Weir. "Sure, why not. Cadman did so well teaching McKay how to date—at least she'll be clear on how to fend off unwanted advances."

"With explosives," McKay grumbled.

"Wouldn't want to stifle Ella's interest in science, would we McKay?"

As McKay sputtered and turned red in the face, Ronon walked away.

#

John hadn't ambushed Rodney the night before when Rodney expected him to want stress relief. Instead, John was all business when he'd stopped by the lab. They'd gone over the data from Michael's research and discussed attack options.

After their brief meeting with Ronon after breakfast, Rodney didn't expect anything. He was distracted with plans for new explosive devices based on the chemical composition of super-Wraith pods when John stopped the transporter with a thought. The transporters on Atlantis were completely loyal to John, but it never led to more than a quickie because John didn't want to take a transporter out of service for too long. Rodney had explained to him that they weren't like elevators. Aside from one location being occupied and unavailable to others, the impact on the system was minimal.

"On your knees," John said.

Rodney didn't know why he so easily gave in to orders like that. He wasn't even turned on yet, since he'd had no idea to expect this, but he sank to his knees and set down his coffee. He'd take John any way he could get him. Rodney fumbled his own pants open as John unzipped his own fly. Sure enough, Rodney's cock responded in kind when he was faced with John's growing erection.

A long lick with the flat of Rodney's tongue had John leaning back against the wall. The man was always leaning. Rodney swirled his tongue around the crown, before sucking John down. The sexy, salty taste of John's cock mingled with trace flavors of coffee and Goki berries. Maybe taste was distracting. As Rodney traced patterns with his tongue, every movement lit up with a new flavor featuring John's cock. The smooth glide of thin skin against Rodney tongue seemed everchanging in exciting ways as well.

This encounter would be quick and dirty. Or really, it would be tidy. Rodney wasn't sure if blow jobs were John's favorite part of sex or if the deniability and lack of clean up made them a central feature of John's lifestyle, at least with men.

It could be both. While John didn't make a lot of noise, he clearly loved oral sex. Not that anyone could help but enjoy a blow job from Rodney. He was both a researcher and innovator extraordinaire, and was confident in his genius as applied to this, as well as science. But John enjoyed giving them as well. The thought of that had Rodney instantly hard. He felt John's cock brush the back of his throat. Rodney knew how that would feel when it was his turn. The imagined touch to his own cock overlaid the sensations and flavors in Rodney's mouth. His whole body came alive with wanting.

John reached down to hold Rodney by the hair. He didn't pull. He didn't control Rodney's motions. But John's hands communicated what the man would never put into words or noises. His fingers flexed desperately. A sense of urgency raced across Rodney's scalp, through his nervous system.

John pushed toward a faster rhythm and then lost track as he came close. That was when having a genius for a lover mattered. Rodney knew from the tension in John's spine and the fact they were doing this in a transporter that John didn't want to be teased. Rodney gave it his all, swallowing around John's cock until the man was coming down his throat. Rodney kept swallowing and sucking, a bit more carefully, for as long as he could keep John going.

After a few silent moments, John slid liquidly down the wall. In a low drawl he said, "Stand up, Rodney."

That was an order Rodney had no trouble following. His cock was red and hard. jutting out of his pants.

John rolled sideways and up to his knees. He sucked the whole thing down like he was born to deep throat. The man barely needed any other technique with his sinful mouth stretched wide around Rodney's cock. He blinked up through sex heavy eyes. His slowly waving eyelashes belied the serious suction he applied to Rodney's already straining erection.

Sliding one hand up Rodney's thigh, John pushed under his balls, rolling and brushing behind. Rodney came in an instant, so hard his knees would have buckled. But John had him. John always had him.

#

Major Lorne and Lieutenant Cadman were plotting to take down a hill that everyone seemed to think was a mountain. But Ella was fascinated. Her eyes traced lines of red and yellow in the cave walls as Lorne explained the structural integrity of sandstone, shale, and calcite. Cadman plotted networks of primary and secondary explosions. She was fierce and a little shrill as she ordered Marines to place charges. Lorne was softer spoken, and his instructions affected larger troop movements. He seemed to be in charge of the operation via radio as Sheppard's team sought intel without much communication beyond check ins.

The second of Michael's bases was smaller than the first, laced unpredictably through natural caves in the hill. Ella wondered if Wraith and super-Wraith could see in the dark. The Lanteans had brought their own lighting. Everything was still dark and cold. The ceilings dripped moisture in some places. The entry areas stank with animal droppings, but farther in the smell was clean and mineral. All of Ella's senses were on overdrive since her previous night's discoveries, or rediscoveries, about her body. Part of her denounced the flood of sensations as a dangerous distraction she should lock down. Part of her gloried in feeling alive and more interested in staying alive than she could ever remember.

"Egg room, thirty yards ahead," Lorne said.

Their military team cleared every possible hiding spot and tunnel branch in between. Then Lorne sent each of them combing the room full of person-sized pods in parallel. It made sense to check for monsters hiding in the large, crowded room. But they hadn't found any super-Wraith on this planet yet. Ella was beginning to wonder if this was anything but a nursery or nest area.

"Cadman, set up the special charges," Lorne ordered.

"Yes, sir." Cadman smiled as she distributed small blue sticks to everyone. "Retrace the paths you just searched. Attach one stick to the bottom of each egg with a single tab of C-4."

Ella asked, "What is it?"

Cadman smiled wide and her pony tail swung as she turned to answer Ella. "McKay made special egg bombs. Samples from the Taranian base showed the eggs were filled with something like methane. Add this little blue stick, and a tiny bit of plastic explosive, C-4, should be enough to blow this mountain sky high when combined with the chemicals inside the eggs."

"Finish up team," Lorne called. "We have reports of another egg room."

It was easy for Ella to finish her row of eggs before most of the Marines did. The explosives were easy to apply, and she was flexible enough to plant them from a lunge position beside each egg. The others had to kneel and reach under each time. For Ella it was step, lunge, stick, repeat.

Cadman met her at the other end with another smile. "You move like Jack Skellington. I guess we're setting up eggs like a _Nightmare Before Easter_."

"What's Easter?" Ella asked as they moved toward the next egg room.

"It's an Earth holiday with eggs. I was playing off a movie called _Nightmare Before Christmas_."

As they turned down an already cleared passage, Ella asked, "What's Christmas?"

"Nope," Cadman said with another swing of her ponytail, "the Earth holiday you should be asking about is Halloween. It's tomorrow, and we're celebrating with a costume party. I'm going to wear a top like Cameron Diaz in Charlie's Angels and spend all my time striking poses. You're close enough to my size that I could lend you something, if you want."

Cadman had wound her explanation through leaving one cave system, entering another that was already cleared, and reaching the new egg room. It was just as well that the Lieutenant was busy distributing egg bombs again, because Ella was totally confused about why Cadman was offering her clothes and what Halloween was supposed to mean. Ella failed to match the woman's wide smile as she took her batch of blue sticks and C-4 and started down her newly assigned row, but she was happy to do her part.

As she finished, Ella heard a ripping sound from the other side of the room.

"No gun fire," Lorne ordered as sounds of a fight drew Ella quickly across the room. She saw a super-Wraith only half out of its egg and already strangling a Marine. Ella pounced and drove her electric batons under its jaw and into its eye without hesitation. As the creature twitched and crumbled, releasing the now gasping Marine, Ella looked up into a ring of shocked faces. She looked to Lorne, "Was I supposed to wait for further orders?"

"We'll talk later," he said. Then into his radio he called, "Lorne to Sheppard, one of these eggs just hatched. Charges are set making weapons discharge risky. Are we ready to clear out and blow this place, sir?"

Focusing her hearing, Ella heard Sheppard say, "Wrap it up, McKay. Everyone back to the Jumpers, now."

When they reached their Jumper, Cadman dragged Ella up front. They hovered above the trees as Cadman triggered the explosives. Ella gasped.

The base looked a lot more like a mountain as pieces flew apart and smoke bellowed up. Crashing and banging sounds followed one after the other. Dust and smoke made it hard to see details, but at the end there was a pile of rocks and no sign of a mountain.

#

Rodney had convinced himself just that morning that it was futile to seek John out after a mission. But he'd found himself holding his breath, on the verge of a panic attack, three times since they blew up the mountain now dubbed Michael's nursery. Cadman had thumped him on the shoulder saying, "Like the egg bombs, McKay." Now everyone was calling them egg bombs and acting like blowing up a nursery was something great.

It wasn't like Rodney had regretted killing Wraith in the past. Fighting the super-Wraith and studying samples from their first encounter had convinced both medical and science teams that they weren't fighting people. The super-Wraith were monsters, Michael's twisted experiments, designed to be less intelligent than most animals. If they'd called what Rodney designed pod bombs instead of egg bombs or congratulated him on blowing up Michael's base or lab instead of a nursery, he might not be close to hyperventilating every time he remembered.

He pounded on John's door. When there wasn't any reply he checked his Life Signs Detector. There was exactly one life sign inside. It had to be John.

Rodney pounded again. "I know you're in there." He pounded again.

Finally John opened the door. Somehow he could stop it part way, only open six inches, so Rodney couldn't come in. "This isn't a good time, McKay." The way he drew out the last name made it clear John didn't want to deal with him as a lover or even a friend right now. "Stop making a scene. Don't you have work to do?"

The door shut before Rodney could say a word. There were prickles in Rodney's eyes and then all across his skin. He'd been humiliated before. It was widely known that he didn't read social situations well. John hadn't seemed particularly angry with him, just annoyed, fed up. If Rodney didn't know what he'd done to deserve it, that was just another day in the life of Rodney McKay.

Still his skin screamed with some kind of need. His lungs caught and felt like they might burst. He needed something to hold him together, but it wasn't going to be John.

In that moment he remembered Ella discussing how distracting touch could be. She didn't seem like a very tactile person. Perhaps the lack of touch was palpable to her, as it was to him in this moment. Not that he had any desire to continue that discussion or otherwise interact with Ella. But the thought of her and the newly discovered robotic prosthetics lab offered him someplace to go and somebody who probably wasn't part of whatever social processes were impacting him.

#

The scan of Ella's arm seemed familiar now. She checked the details and cautions from the scanner, but she'd only been in one fight this time, and hadn't take any damage.

Rocket waited at her feet, eager to help.

Ella urged Rocket to put its paws up on the scanner. She entered the program that offered her new options and sorted through new possibilities for Rocket. Its legs were clearly designed to let it stand on hind legs longer than a four-footed animal usually would. But the forepaws should be more versatile, so Rocket could take advantage of them in that upright position.

The most appealing model offered had five long fingers with retractable cables, similar to the cables that extruded to form Ella's net. Up to a certain length, the cables could act as claws or fine tools. At longer lengths, they could wrap around an object for a more secure hold. To Ella, those looked like the paws, or really hands, that Rocket should have had in the first place. She selected that option.

Another screen instantly popped up asking about the current production model. Ella flipped through several screens before realizing the cupboard she'd found Rocket in was actually a device for manufacturing robotic assistants. It had all but completed another version of Rocket. Only the final details remained to be determined. She quickly agreed to swap in the new hand design. Browsing fur options, she chose a shorter all black fur, that was supposedly water and stain resistant. If she was reading the materials statistics correctly (since she didn't understand the words, that was mostly a matter of extrapolating from pictures, diagrams, and rating scales), the new robot's fur should also be smooth and soft. Mostly, Ella wanted both models to be easily differentiated while clearly being the same thing. It wasn't good to be alone. Even if Rocket wasn't a person or aware the way she was, Ella didn't want it to be the only one of its kind.

As the new version went into final production, Ella disconnected Rocket's current forepaws and attached the new ones that emerged from the fabricator. The Ancient console interfaced easily with the Ancient components in Ella's arm. It seemed to offer her more detailed diagrams as needed, without her even knowing to ask. At the proper magnification, the whole procedure amounted to "insert tab A into slot B" with a little bit of soldering and chemical welding.

When she finished, Rocket gave a happy barking sound and demonstrated how it could now handle tweezers and even scissors, although the scissors could use some practice.

Ella was digging deeper into the options pages for her own prosthetic and Rocket was learning to climb the rope nets when McKay walked in.

"Where's Ronon?" He leaned over Ella's shoulder, not waiting for an answer to his previous question asked. "What's all that?"

"More options for my arm." The device Rocket had come from let out an almost melodic series of beeps. "The new robotic assistant is ready. Would you like to name and claim it?"

#

On the way to Ella's lab, Rodney had decided he should check on her progress and whether she'd been hurt on the last mission. Perhaps he'd also been at loose ends after seeing John and not eager to face his own lab and minions who needed to be yelled at. When Ella offered him a pet robot, his stomach flipped.

"Why do you think I need a helper robot?"

Ella blinked at him as if the question didn't compute. "If you already have enough help, we can offer it to someone else. But they're very adaptable and learn fast." She pointed to Rocket, who had just made it to the top of the rope structure in the corner and was now learning to brachiate. It took only a moment for Rodney to identify the change to its front paws. "You upgraded it to climb?"

"Before this Rocket was practicing with tweezers and scissors, too. I made the new one with the same front paws, but you could always swap them out if you want something else."

"Where is it?" Rodney tried not to sound too eager. Of course, he wanted a helper robot. His initial question had been ridiculous, and it was amazing that Ella would offer him this at such an opportune time.

Ella pointed to the cupboard where she'd originally found Rocket. "It turns out the device started a new one as soon as I took Rocket out. It will imprint on whoever speaks to it first and accept the first word or phrase as its designation. But I've found instructions to change either imprint or designation if needed."

Rodney thought quickly. When he knelt down and opened the cupboard he said, "Archytas."

The robot that crawled out to meet him looked even less like a dog than Rocket did. Its fur was dense and darkly shiny like an otter's, although its tail was long and flexible like a black cat. Archytas sat on its haunches in front of Rodney and reached for the pen in his shirt pocket. Its hands had five nimble fingers and two of them sprouted cables like thin black licorice. One strand wrapped around the pen as the other experimented with the click action, causing the ink cartridge to extend and retract over and over.

Rodney couldn't help reaching out to touch Archytas' head and scratch behind its cat-like ears. "How smart are these things?"

Archytas tilted its head as if listening for instructions.

Ella answered, "There's a chart about that, but the pictures on it don't mean much to me."

Rodney stood and said, "Come, Archytas." The robot followed on three legs while still playing with the pen. The movement made it look like a monkey.

Looking at Ella's display, Rodney was horrified to realize the only two creatures he recognized in the comparison pictures were an Iratus bug and a Wraith. The robot companions were ranked in between. "You're sure this is only about intelligence and doesn't imply they're evil or designed to suck the life force out of something?"

"This symbol," Ella pointed to the top right, "shows up when I scan the robotic part of my brain."

It was an Ancient word Rodney had translated as "processing power" in the past. "Do you know how they compare to you?"

"I could probably find out, but I don't know how much of my thinking is organic versus synthetic. Should I be worried about this going the way of Michael's experiments or whatever was done to him?"

"What? No!" Rodney was not going to supply Earth or Pegasus with smarter robot armies. Whatever processing power Archytas and Rocket had, they were smarter than autonomous drones on Earth, and Rodney already worried about that line of research. "They don't have weapons, do they?"

When Ella reached back to her console, Rodney noticed she wasn't actually tapping or manipulating the screen. Her hand simply rested to one side and the screen changed to show what appeared to be very limited weapons options. The cables on the robotic assistants could be used as claws. There was an option for sharp teeth up to a certain length. "You don't have the ATA gene. How did you control that console?"

Ella held out her robotic arm and rotated it in front of him. The lines were different, the texture more like skin than her original. "The materials Atlantis provided for repairs appear to allow me to interface with the city."

"What about them?" Rodney pointed to their robotic assistants who were now rolling the pen back and forth to each other on the ground.

Searching through more screens Ella said, "It looks like the city can interface with them to track, upgrade, or assist. But they don't control the interaction any more than the Stargate controls when it opens."

Raised voices in the hall had both Rodney and Ella turning toward the door. John came in first, with Ronon and Weir just behind him. "See, she isn't alone. Rodney's here, and it looks like Rocket has a new friend."

"Archytas," Rodney said with a proud smile.

"Archy!" John was down on the floor vigorously petting the new robot before Rodney could object. John's cheerful physicality came across as forced though. Whatever irritation he'd shown when Rodney stopped by had only grown. But John didn't show that in front of Weir, which made Rodney feel oddly better, like at least he got to know a little more of John than most people did.

"No, it's Archytas," Rodney corrected with a sigh, "for the Ancient Greek mathematician and engineer who first built a mechanical bird. Some consider it to have been the first robot."

"You don't mind being called Archy, do ya boy?" John continued as if the robot were a pet and had such preferences.

"It's not a boy," Ella stated matter of factly. Rodney noticed that she was willing to correct John now, which she hadn't on the day she discovered Rocket. "The correct pronoun to use would be 'it,' as neither robot currently has genitalia or any identifiable sex or gender markers."

The physicist also noticed that John didn't argue when Ella corrected him. He started rolling the pen to Archytas and Rocket in turn.

Weir finally spoke saying, "Ella, have you been living in this lab?"

Only then did Rodney notice the mattress made up on the floor by the door and a bundle of blankets up at the top of the nets.

"I sleep here," Ella answered.

"With Ronon?" Weir asked.

"Yes."

#

When he'd caught up to Weir and Sheppard in the halls, Ronon had known there was going to be some sort of confrontation about Ella. He thought they'd dodged the issue of keeping her under surveillance when they found her working with McKay. But he knew enough about Earthling eccentricities to see how Weir might misinterpret Ella's answer about sleeping arrangements.

"I sleep by the door." Ronon pointed. "She sleeps up high."

"This isn't a residential area," Weir said.

"She has a hammock bed," Sheppard said. "Everyone will be jealous."

Ronon suspected Sheppard of intentionally acting stupid or childish when he said such things, but the Satedan understood the reasoning behind such charades even less well than he understood some of the Colonel's battle strategies.

Weir stood up straighter. "I'm not sure it's safe for anyone to sleep in a work space, let alone for someone we don't know to have unfettered access to this area."

"It's basically her infirmary," McKay said. "She's already learned to use the equipment here better than any of my scientists can. I mean, I'm sure I could surpass her in a day if I put my mind to it. But if I assign one of my pea-brained minions to mentor her part time, what she already knows from her own tech will make it hard for them to stay ahead of her." McKay paced and stared ahead as the idea unfolded in his mind. "Actually, I'd like to put her in charge of a robotic assistant program. They train dogs on Earth to sniff out bombs and people buried under rubble. We could use a few robotic assistants and someone dedicated to studying the options. If we could—"

"Dr. McKay," Weir interrupted, "What makes you think Ella has the background for such work?"

Ronon snorted. "Did you judge my background as a Runner? How can you judge her history, known or unknown?"

After over a year on Atlantis, Ronon still wasn't sure if he trusted the Lanteans. He had strong reservations about Earthlings in general. But he'd accepted Ella as his training charge. If anyone was going to judge her fitness, it should be him.

"Listen, I don't know how they handled these things on Sateda—" Weir began.

"Never came up." Ronon looked down at Weir in a way he knew she found intimidating.

In a moment, Weir turned to focus on Ella who now had Rocket leaning against her legs. "Surely you need special training to use these machines."

"How?" Ella asked innocently.

"What?" Weir shook her head.

"Who?" As Sheppard started laughing and McKay moved to interrupt, Ella clarified, "Who can train me better than Ronon and the devices themselves?"

Weir shook her head harder. "You know you can always ask for help. We should introduce you to a wider range of role models. There should be at least one female mentor. Perhaps Teyla?"

Whether or not Weir intended to be insulting, Ronon felt his temper growing again. They'd already discussed this and he'd seen to it. In addition, the ability to ask for help did not come easily to people who had been through experiences like his or like those he suspected in Ella's past. It was not something he wished to address in front of Ella. Her response took care of the issue neatly.

"I've met and sparred with Teyla," Ella said in a tone that seemed pitched to match Weir's. "If I need a female mentor, I believe Lieutenant Cadman would be more suitable. She has already offered to lend me clothing, help me with certain matters, and answered several of my questions."

Weir paused a moment, and Ronon had to give her credit for actually listening when Ella spoke up for herself. "That's good to hear. I hope you know you're welcome to speak with me if there are topics you'd prefer not to address with others."

"I know now," Ella said with no tone of complaint or appreciation.

Whatever Weir read into that declaration had her leaving the room in short order. Ronon hoped he could get a more complete story from Ella later. From the way she'd spoken, he suspected the information Cadman shared was not entirely of the sort Weir had in mind.

Sheppard stood. "Glad that's settled." He left the room without a backward glance.

McKay called, "Come, Archytas." The robot jumped to follow him, carrying the pen in his mouth this time. "Let's go see what you can do in the science lab."

It wasn't clear to Ronon how Ella and McKay had made another robot in the brief time it took for Ronon to stop by his room to shower and change clothes. But McKay seemed happy talking to his robot, and the way Rocket leaned against Ella's legs seemed to comfort her. Maybe putting her in charge of a robotic assistant program wasn't a bad idea at all.

"Do you want the next Robot?" Ella asked, following his glance.

Ronon shook his head. "You having Rocket is enough."

"Would you like an implant for your hand or arm to let you interface with Atlantis?" She pointed to a small panel on the outer edge of her palm. "Something this size would be easy to rest against Ancient tech and seems to work as well as ATA in many cases."

His fingers brushed across the tattoo on his neck, and he didn't try to hide the motion. "Body art, including useful tattoos showing rank or status, were respected on Sateda. I'd think at least as long before adding a piece of metal to my skin, but I thank you for the offer."

Ella smiled. Ronon appreciated seeing it as much as he appreciated the gifts she'd offered.

#

By that evening, Rodney had rigged up a large key touchpad and was teaching Archytas to enter numbers given verbally or displayed on a laptop screen. He'd been forced to move their practice time to his quarters as people kept trying to play with and pet his robot in the lab. Rodney was thinking about printing up a service animal vest that said, "Don't pet me. I'm working."

It wasn't a rule he'd want to apply to himself though. Archytas had incredibly soft fur. Rodney liked to bury his fingers in it whenever his own work required only one hand, as it did now. Rodney was sitting with pillows carefully adjusted at the head of his bed. He'd propped Archytas' keyboard on a toolbox beside him so the robot could type in a pose halfway between a dog sitting and a marmot squatting on its hind legs.

There was a knock at Rodney's door. He thought it open, and John stepped in. "Look, I didn't mean to be rude earlier. I was busy finishing something."

"Rude? Really? I'd hardly be one to notice." Rodney lied, but John's semi-apology and the fact he stopped by released a tightness in Rodney's chest that he'd grown used to breathing around. He ran his fingers through Archytas' fur absent mindedly. John was still standing by the open door. He wouldn't come here to hook up, but Rodney sensed he wanted something. "Do you want to watch a movie? Or was there work you needed me to do?"

John looked back over his shoulder. "No, I should probably prepare for the mission tomorrow. Those egg bombs you made worked really well."

Rodney froze and looked at the floor. They didn't need him to manufacture more of the catalyst sticks. He had Zelenka and a chemist watching over the fabrication from his original designs.

It was possible Rodney missed something, because what John said next sounded like a non-sequitur. "Guess you won't need people much longer, now you have a programmable minion."

With that John was gone, and Rodney was having trouble breathing. Sometimes when he held off his panic attacks, they seemed to hover close, waiting for a weak moment to strike.

Without any commands, Archytas left his modified keyboard and jumped up on Rodney's lap.

"What—What are you doing?" Rodney gasped.

Archytas tucked its cold nose beneath Rodney's ear and wrapped a cool paw behind his neck. The rest of the furry body felt vaguely warm along one side of Rodney's chest. The robot distributed its weight to not put undue pressure on Rodney's ribs or where its feet spread flat across Rodney's legs. It might be a programmed response to someone panicking. If nothing else, trying to figure out what his new robot was doing got Rodney out of his own head and calmed him down a bit. It wasn't like touching a person. If anything, it made Rodney realize how little touching he was allowed with John. As Rodney relaxed, the pressure was soothing. The slightly animated contact was more comforting than any blanket.

That night he fell asleep with Archytas curled up beside him on his bed.

#

**Day Four**

During their next jog, Sheppard pushed himself too hard the whole way. Near the end, he asked what Ronon thought of the new "helper bots" but didn't wait for Ronon to answer before he sprinted off again. The man's communication style still confused Ronon, but he was starting to believe his confusion wasn't that unusual.

Not much later, Ronon was ploughing his way through a large plate of what Earthlings called "hash browns" when Sheppard, McKay, and Archytas joined him, Teyla, Ella, and Rocket.

"What happened to Rocket's face?" McKay asked before biting into a muffin.

"Now, Rodney," Sheppard asked, "How'd you like it if Teyla greeted us by asking 'what happened to Rodney's face?'"

"Good morning, Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay," Teyla said pointedly and without any food in her mouth.

McKay spoke around his muffin to Sheppard, without acknowledging her. "You said I had a pillow crease on my face and dog fur on my uniform, which I didn't by the way, because Archytas is not a dog and does not shed."

"Of course, a dog probably wouldn't sleep with you, but a robot doesn't have a choice." John still looked like he wanted to sprint away.

"I was never much of a dog person, but my cat was very devoted to me before I had to leave him with a neighbor in order to come here and wrangle under-educated minions while defending the basics of physics to unappreciative, crazy-haired Colonels who apparently got up on the wrong side of bed this morning, pillow creases or no."

Ella was seated directly across from McKay. Although she didn't raise her voice when she spoke, McKay and everyone else at the table went silent. "Rocket's new snout design was meant to sniff out Wraith. We tested with samples of super-Wraith and the egg pods this morning. I believe Rocket could help us find both sets of targets. The current forepaws and proximity to the ground would make Rocket and Archytas better designed that humans or myself to plant egg bombs as well." Ella looked up from her mostly empty plate of eggs and hash browns to calmly tell McKay, "I could modify Archytas' snout as well."

The scientist's mouth gaped open and closed soundlessly. Ronon expected Sheppard to pound him on the back or tease about McKay finally being speechless. Instead the Colonel said, "Sounds like solid military tactics to me."

Ronon agreed about the tactics, but usually Sheppard showed more concern for McKay, who was clearly distressed.

Teyla intervened saying, "Perhaps robotic creatures to be risked in battle should not be assigned as individual companions or given faces."

"By that argument," Ella answered without looking up, "you should send faceless, non-humanoid robots and drones to do battle in place of humans or other sympathetic living creatures. But given what we have to work with and how we could all have been blown up last time, it is logical to use the robots and people best qualified to plant the bombs and remove themselves quickly."

#

When they reached Michael's last base, all Rodney could think of was Hobbit Holes, also known as Smials. Seven round doors under supporting arches formed the entrances to seven small hills. The hills and surrounding rock were shiny and black, like a lava field, but weathered enough to support scrubby grass and flowers. Archytas walked by his side, scenting the air with the updated snout that Ella had fabricated. Rodney couldn't help wishing Archytas was a traditional pet that could stay safe in Atlantis. Really, he wished they both could have stayed curled up in bed this morning and not have had to worry about super Wraith or egg bombs or grumpy Colonels at all.

"Keep up, McKay. We don't want to be exposed like this any longer than necessary," John said.

"Just trying not to fall and slice up my legs or my valuable scientific equipment on stabby, shifting lava rocks." Ella had assured Rodney that Archytas' paws would be fine before she and Rocket took off with the main explosives team. "I don't see why we couldn't land the Jumpers right in front of the Hobbit Holes. The Jumpers have cloaking."

"And we'd be stepping out of thin air."

"No life signs," Rodney waved the Life Signs Detector in his left hand.

"The Jumpers are only a couple hundred yards away, where larger rocks give natural cover, in addition to some pilots staying with them and keeping them cloaked." John sighed as their team trudged forward. "If we need a rapid evac I can call them in."

#

"Rocket is scenting super-Wraith," Ella said quietly.

Cadman nodded sharply and whispered into her radio.

Ella had her electric batons ready as they passed through a change in air pressure that made her ears pop. She used a roundhouse kick on the first super-Wraith that jumped her, knocking him back into the forces behind him. "Stay back, Rocket," she shouted. She hadn't tested Rocket's electrical grounding with respect to her batons, and she didn't want to risk it here.

One of the Marines on their team had been issued a Zat, some alien weapon deemed safe to use once they planted explosives. They hadn't armed any egg bombs yet, but repeated hits from the Zat seemed to make super-Wraith disappear. Ella wondered if she could study that when they were back on Atlantis.

As another super-Wraith tried to strangle her, she shoved a baton through an eye and one under its ribs as she braced herself to kick out with both feet in another direction. Landing on her new opponent and keeping hold of her weapons she went for the jaw and eye brain fry. The next super-Wraith to attack her got the same, and the next.

When all the monsters were fried or disintegrated, Ella found Cadman staring through a window into a person-sized metal tube. The person inside had short brown hair and looked younger than most Lanteans. From the way Cadman's mouth hung open, it seemed likely she knew the man.

Lorne declared the rest of the area clear and came to look. He was immediately on the radio. "Colonel Sheppard, we defeated approximately ten super-Wraith and found a metal tube that could be some sort of stasis device with a person in it."

Ella's hearing was sharp enough to catch Sheppard's reply. "By person, do you mean completely human, Lorne?"

"I can only see part of him through the window, sir. But he looks suspiciously like a teenaged Dr. Beckett, sir."

Ella didn't know who Beckett was, but Lorne looked almost a stunned as Cadman.

"Hold your position, Major. I'm bringing McKay. Is there other tech beyond the metal tube?"

"Just a keypad and read out at the bottom of the tube. It looks like Ancient tech and portable, sir. I'll check with one of the medics we had on M8G-352 before Michael and the humanized Wraith escaped."

#

Rodney couldn't keep the tears from his eyes as he stared at a young Carson Beckett in some device, probably stolen from the medical set up on that planet where they'd tried to help Michael and his people. The scientist's brain was flipping through possibilities: de-Ascended, cloned, subjected to some horrible hybrid experiment. He'd rules out android and replicator with a few quick scans.

"Medic," the tall Marine medic that stepped up had identified himself when Rodney arrived. Rodney couldn't be bothered to remember his name or anything beyond what he'd said about the life support tube he recognized from helping Carson treat the humanized Wraith. "This device says it's fully charged but has only been in autonomous mode for a few days. Is there a way to retrieve data from before that?"

The medic reported in clipped, emotionless tones, "He was probably worked on someplace else and put in this for storage or transport. I checked and couldn't find any further data, Dr. McKay."

"Then what good are you?" Rodney muttered. "We're taking him back to Atlantis," Rodney announced loudly, looking up to scowl at John, expecting an argument about security or contaminants.

John looked nothing but sympathetic. He turned to Lorne without missing a beat. "Send this medic and a full team of security to escort the device and whoever this is in it. Have a cloaked Jumper meet them and return to Atlantis immediately. Advise Dr. Keller to use all possible precautions while we check for more records here."

"Yes, sir."

#

Ronon exchanged glances with Teyla as they guarded Sheppard and McKay's backs. McKay had found a large Wraith console and rigged wires to connect it to his tablet. Sheppard was packing a box with samples and containers he didn't appear to understand. They were grabbing all they could while Lorne and Cadman oversaw the final teams placing explosives. Ella had taken charge of both robotic assistants when it became clear McKay couldn't focus on anything but trying to save Dr. Beckett.

Ronon had seen McKay and most of Atlantis mourn Carson Beckett's death. Earthlings acted entitled to life unlike any other people Ronon had seen. Even their warriors seemed ill-prepared for unexpected losses, like the explosion that took out Beckett. It made Ronon wonder how safe they must all have assumed themselves to be back on Earth.

Anger and grief, Ronon understood. Fear of death, he understood. Surprise at death, he found more alien than Sheppard's plans or Weir's lectures.

#

Ella moved down a row of eggs as Rocket and Archytas took the rows to either side. The three of them were covering the whole room at speed while Cadman set up primary charges and detonators by the door.

Lorne had split off with the other half of their demolition team to place charges in one final egg room. Sheppard's team were still recovering data on the man called Beckett. The other teams had returned to their Jumpers, except for one assigned to watch the entrances and provide security.

They'd completely searched the base first, with both robots and Life Signs Detectors. All threats should have been found and neutralized.

The ground shook beneath Ella's feet. She hurried along with the robots to place the final egg bombs.

Cadman had one hand pressed over the radio by her ear until she said, "Shit, we're being attacked by a Wraith Hive Ship."

#

"Now, McKay," John was shouting. The room was shaking. The data wasn't quite finished downloading. "If we don't leave right now none of this will help Carson because we will all be dead."

It was John referring to whoever or whatever they'd found as Carson that got Rodney moving. Teyla took point. John carried a box and stuck close to Rodney. Ronon followed behind them. "Did you call in a cloaked Jumper?"

"They'd be sitting ducks, invisible or not. Their shields are nothing against a Wraith Hive's weapons."

"Then where are we going?" Rodney asked.

"We'll make a run for the Jumpers at the same time as Lorne's team. They've set up a distraction going the other direction."

Rodney didn't have time to ask about the distraction. John was exchanging military babble with Lorne over their radios.

Their team burst out of one round door at the same time as Lorne's sprinted out of another. Two doors in between were smoldering. One mound seemed to have been sliced in half from space by the Hive Ship.

The two teams were running toward different Jumpers, but all heading forward and to the right of the base.

A series of small explosions were sounding in the opposite direction, growing farther away behind the base and to the left. It was only then that Rodney remembered Archytas and noted the distinct lack of four-legged robots with either of the teams he could see.

Another blast from the Hive Ship struck behind them. A moment later Rodney heard the popping explosions as the pod bombs went off, followed by a larger explosion that more than leveled the base. Ronon's arms came around Rodney as he stumbled at the edge of the explosion. The larger man practically carried him until they were inside a cloaked Jumper.

They were off the ground before Rodney had the presence of mind to claim his seat at the front of the Jumper.

John took them up high, well away from the Wraith Hive and the smoldering pit that was the last of Michael's known bases. "You're not planning some crazy attack on the Hive ship, are you?"

"Not without the Daedalus or a bunch of nukes," John said. The man's eyes were wide and bloodshot. He was covered in dirt from the explosion. But he didn't look injured. Neither did Teyla or Ronon.

Rodney wondered if Ella was safe with Cadman and Lorne's team. All he said aloud was, "I should never have let her take Archytas."

#

After less than an Earth minute of exciting explosions, Ella was back in a crowded Jumper with Cadman, Lorne and a whole team of Marines for who knew how long.

They kept radio silence because of the Hive Ship that they evidently didn't have adequate weapons to fight. That irritated Ella. The Hive was said to carry hundreds of Wraith on board. But the Lanteans didn't have the backup they needed to take it on. Hiding out in the cloaked Jumper just waiting made Ella feel itchy.

The Hive was flying away. It had been for a while. Lorne was scanning to make sure that, between the Hive's weapons and their own explosives, nothing remained of Michael's last base or his super-Wraith.

Finally, a call came in from Colonel Sheppard, "All teams prepare to Gate back."

"Yes, sir. We have one stop to make first." Lorne took their Jumper down to the sheltered target coordinates that Ella had given the robots.

Ella stepped out as the rear ramp of the Jumper extended. "Come, Rocket. Come, Archytas."

Both robots came running. The Marines shuffled to make room inside as the Jumper hatch closed and they took off for the Gate.

Rocket's fur was burned off entirely on one side, along with some of the pseudo-muscles that made him seem so lifelike when he moved. But his mechanical components were all functional. Archytas' snout was a mangled wreck, but Ella could replace it with the original or manufacture a new Wraith-sniffing model before dinner.

As Ella inspected them, as she ran her hands carefully over every part and asked for small movements, the part of Ella that was a weapon slipped away. Beneath the boredom she had felt while waiting on the crowded Jumper, Ella found a layer of worry and anxiety. As she petted and queried each robot, she felt warmer, more alive. Her sense of touch lit up as her mind sparked with ideas for repairing and improving the robot companions. She thought about changing Rocket's fur, because Archytas' was softer and possibly more fire resistant. But she wanted to keep Rocket's color pattern. Even if all she knew suggested Rocket didn't have opinions or emotions, it mattered to Ella and possibly others that Rocket maintain some identifying characteristics. And if she kept making improvements day by day, it might possibly matter to Rocket at some point. In that moment, Ella decided to treat Rocket not as an experiment, tool, or weapon, but as someone who might someday be able to look back and have opinions about all that had been done to it in the past.

Carefully, Ella unstrapped the now empty automated grenade launchers that Cadman had helped her attach to the robots' backs. As Cadman collected them she said, "You have to admit, that was a pretty good distraction."

Ella rested a hand on each of the robots and sat between them until they landed back on Atlantis.

#

Rodney ignored the nurse trying to stop him for a post mission medical check.

He made his way to the observation area beside the quarantine room and pushed the speaker button. "What have you found?"

Dr. Keller shook her head without looking toward the observation window or the speaker broadcasting his voice. "I'm scheduled to give a full report at the debriefing, McKay. I look forward to your presentation then on whatever further data you collected."

"Is it Carson?"

"If I answer that much will you promise to leave me alone until the meeting?"

"Yes," Rodney answered fast. It didn't matter if it was true. He needed to know now.

"DNA confirms it's Carson Beckett. Telomeres suggest cloning. Brain scans suggest it's Carson on a neural net level that should be impossible. I'm hoping your data will explain that and the accelerated cell generation, because the Atlantis medical database isn't telling me how to help him."

"We may not have all the data." Rodney tried to sound stern even as he slumped against the window. "A Wraith Hive attacked the base while we were still in it."

"I'm working with what I have. If you want this man to live, do the best you can with what you have and give me a copy at the meeting."

#

Ronon escorted Ella and the two robots to McKay's lab. She'd insisted on finding McKay as soon as the infirmary was done with them. Sheppard had said the scientist was already back in his lab.

They found McKay hunched over a workbench on the far side of the room, muttering and cursing to himself.

Archytas walked ahead of them all. It sat at McKay's feet, not quite touching, and made a long grumbling sound. McKay stopped dead. "I thought—"

The scientist quickly knelt on the floor and pulled the robot in for a hug. He petted its back and shifted to scratch behind its ears. "Oh, what happened to your nose, Archytas?"

"I came to ask if you wanted the old snout replaced or wanted a new version of this one," Ella said.

"Do they feel pain?" McKay asked.

Ella walked closer with Rocket by her side. "No, they sense the damage. Learning subroutines engage. But there is no pain or emotion yet."

"Yet?" McKay asked.

"Any sufficiently advanced learning system could develop some form of sentience at some point."

McKay's head jerked around and Ronon stepped closer in case the situation turned violent. "You realized that, and yet you set Rocket and Archytas up as targets. You sent them out as a distraction to gain us a few seconds by drawing Wraith fire. The energy weapons from a Hive Ship can cut right through a building. These robots wouldn't have stood a chance, and you didn't care. I might expect that of Cadman whose brain is full of romantic fluff and following orders. But you're part robot. You referred to yourself as a weapon. Would you want to be used that way?"

Ronon guessed Ella had been used that way. He suspected that was why she referred to herself as a weapon rather than as a warrior or soldier.

"I am sentient and intelligent." Ella stepped closer to McKay who was still crouched on the floor by Archytas. She loomed over him. "I could choose to risk my life. I could choose who to work for or whose orders to follow." Ronon wondered if McKay realized how significant it was for Ella to speak of herself this way. "Until Rocket and Archytas are capable of that, someone has to choose for them. If they someday become aware, I will stand responsible for those decisions and for every repair or modification I make to them. Do you want to decide on a replacement snout for Archytas, or do you want me to make that decision, too?"

#

Ella's words hit Rodney like a sudden gravitational increase. What she said about choices rang true, not just for the robots but for Carson's clone as well. Sometimes they had to decide for others and hope the others agreed with those choices if they were ever in a place to judge.

Sometimes Rodney didn't feel capable to decide for himself. His heart raced. The responsibilities he already carried were heavy enough. Right now they were crushing, overwhelming. He didn't want to take responsibility for Carson, who he'd already failed once, or Archytas, who could evolve into a consciousness. But it was already too late. Without meaning to, he'd taken on those responsibilities. He couldn't turn his back on them now.

"The Wraith scenting snout," he said. "Maybe it will keep us all safer in the long run. Do you need any help with the repair?"

Ella shook her head. "With accelerated growth, I can have a new snout for Archytas and new fur for Rocket in time for the party tonight."

"That's tonight?" Rodney asked. "Wait, what did you say about accelerated growth? I need access to all that data." Rodney picked up the firewalled tablet where he'd been studying Michael's data on cloning and headed for the door. The information for the robotic prosthetics lab had been completely separate from the medical and scientific databases. No one but Ella had explored it, but the accelerated growth for the biologically based components must use accelerated cell growth. Even if the process was different from whatever Michael did, the Ancients must have had ways to accelerate cell based systems and then stabilize the cells at the end of the process.

Rodney was the first through the doors to Ella's lab. He set up his own work area as she turned on her machines. Ronon kept each of the robots busy in turn with a laser pointer, mostly encouraging them to chase the light on the giant hamster wheel.

#

Ella scanned Archytas' snout first. The settings to manufacture replacement materials for the current Wraith sniffing version were almost automatic. Archytas nosed Rocket when they traded places on the scanner, but then Archytas went to play on the wheel.

After scanning Rocket, several alternative skin and fur coverings came up on the screen. Ella quickly chose the same pattern of markings as before, white markings on the snout, above the eyes, and striping the tail. She looked at ratings for protection from fire but also from staining. The fur shouldn't be too brittle, but she wouldn't require it to be as soft or short as Archytas' fur. When she'd narrowed down a final selection, Ella looked at Rocket, still stretched out casually on the scanner. She thought it would agree with her selections. She hoped so.

With both hands, Ella stroked down Rocket's back. The exposed metal felt just as natural to Ella as the fur covered parts, and she knew the robot's touch sensors were still fully functional. "Good job, Rocket. You can get down now." It leapt easily to the floor and ran over to play with Archytas.

As the new snout and fur were being processed, McKay looked too engrossed in his work to be interrupted. Ella hopped up on the scanner to run a self-diagnostic. As she suspected, it found no real damage from their latest mission. It did offer her options for skin or fur coverings. Her base skin tone was identified as blue, although Ella wasn't sure if she was born that way. The first option was to cover all of her robotic or patched parts with similar blue skin. The sample image of how she'd look with blue skin everywhere was bland and felt wrong to Ella on many levels.

However, the idea of trying on a different look for Halloween held great appeal. Ella wondered what she'd look like with skin and hair like Cadman and set parameters for that. It turned out, she'd actually look quite a lot like the Lieutenant that way. But she didn't want to pretend to be Cadman for Halloween. It was easy to adjust the hair to be darker and redder. The lips and skin she made paler. Her eyebrows she kept the same, and for the first time Ella wondered why she had eyebrows and if she used to have hair.

McKay broke the near silence in the room by shouting, "I have a meeting. You should look at this." He pointed at an Ancient neural reprogramming machine that Ella could admit to herself she'd been avoiding. "It can make backup copies of the robot's minds. If we ever had to risk them again like we did today, they could start over without losing too much. I don't know if it would work on you."

With that pronouncement, he left. Ronon was sharpening his knives by the door as the robots took turns pointing and chasing the laser pointer.

Cautiously, Ella approached the neural reprogrammer. She wondered if back wherever she came from, someone had a copy of her neural net, if they had stored her memories as well as the web of connections that yielded her thought patterns. If so, they could overwrite everything she'd learned on Atlantis—if they got control of her. More than ever, that made her hope McKay was right and there was no way to send her back.

She wouldn't let that fear bias her decisions for Rocket and Archytas. If there was a way to make a backup, there should be a way to prevent it from being used to overwrite a functioning version. If there came a point when the robots would choose for themselves to live, even if it meant using a backup copy, maybe they'd appreciate her efforts to build in safeguards.

#

Ronon watched the robots play. They'd taken the laser pointer into the nets. He let Rocket take the blanket from his bed and carry it up to where cables grabbed to hold it. It was obvious the two robots were controlling the cables now. They appeared to be building a walled maze or dwelling of some kind. When it was done, they both settled inside. They used the laser pointer to draw shapes on a wall until they finally turned their new toy off. After a few quite moments, four robot legs dangled down through the net they were lying on. Then all eight legs. After what looked a bit like a slap fight, all eight legs worked together to pull out new cables and weave a tighter level of netting within reach of where they currently lay.

All the legs pulled up and then the upper cables rearranged to make openings the robots could climb through. They started squirming and following each other around the nets. Sometimes they'd work together to redesign a section. The work had no purpose that Ronon could see, and he thought the robots were more like children than they were like machines or even animals. Throughout it all, they left Ella's nest at the top untouched.

When Cadman came in and completely ignored Ronon in favor of asking Ella about Halloween plans, Ronon left to see to his own arrangements.

#

The report Keller delivered about Carson's clone was more interesting than any medical report Rodney could remember. He could almost imagine himself liking Keller and finding her interesting, if they could ever find anything in common besides wanting to help Carson.

Weir seemed less absorbed and interrupted. "Are saying we could stop the process now and effectively have everything Carson knew, all of his intelligence and personality, but in the body of a teenager?"

"If I knew how to safely stop the accelerated cellular processes, yes," Keller said, "but I think looking that young would make it hard for him to interact with patients or colleagues."

Given that the woman looked like a college cheerleader, Rodney thought she should know. Having been a child prodigy himself, Rodney also had personal experience with similar issues. But he based his arguments on science instead.

"From what I learned in the robotic prosthetics lab, it would be dangerous to stop Carson's clone's development too abruptly. Unless Michael knew something the Ancients didn't, which I seriously doubt, it was reckless to grow a clone this fast and could lead to uncontrollable cellular degeneration later. The Ancients have guidelines for how rapidly each type of tissue should be grown and how to taper off and stabilize cell reproduction before completion. I've worked out a projected timeline." Rodney sent an annotated copy to everyone at the meeting: Keller, Weir, Sheppard, and Lorne. "It would take most of a year, and the clone would look at least ten years older than he does now. Minor cosmetic tweaks would then be available if Carson wanted to look more like he and others remembered him looking."

"That would also give us time to negotiate his legal status," Weir mentioned, something Rodney hadn't thought about.

"And time to consider other medical risks and procedures," Keller added. That had definitely been on Rodney's mind as well.

The best response was when John said, "He needs to stay on Atlantis where we can protect him while he's vulnerable."

"We have paperwork and procedures for that." Lorne started pulling them up on his tablet.

"Both him and the technology," Rodney said. "Do you know how many kidnapping attempts there have been against SGC and related scientists? If certain organizations had the technology to grow their own clone with all the relevant knowledge, those people would be even more at risk and we'd face an arms race like we've never seen before."

"Why Dr. McKay," Weir said, "I'd have thought you'd want to grace the world with more of your superior intellect."

"A clone of me would be as much a person as I am." Rodney held up both hands, including his tablet, to emphasize the obvious. "If he were held prisoner, tortured, or forced to do something terrible, that would be exactly like me being in that same situation. And what about Ella? Are we doing anything to protect her and keep others from trying to take control or use her?"

Weir began, "Are you sure we can't send her back? We have no right—"

"She doesn't want to go back. My original analysis shows whoever or whatever sent her here risked a lot more than wiping her memories. With no signs of entropic cascade failure or of any person or universe being endangered, there's no reason to risk it." Rodney took the chance to push his point a bit farther. "But we need to protect her right to fight and work as she chooses, just as we need to protect Carson, with all the freedoms the rest of us expect."

Weir waited, as if to be sure Rodney had fully finished before she said, "Actually, Colonel Sheppard and I have sent in a proposal to cover that. We wove it into existing negotiations to revise the charter and should hear back with the next data burst, tonight."

"Will the revisions help both Ella and Carson?" Rodney asked.

"Possibly," Weir glanced at Lorne. "We're considering Ella an extra-galactic representative and refugee. The clone could possibly count as native to Pegasus or a refugee from Michael's lab that was destroyed. It sounds like we'll have time to explore the best options for both of them."

"With only their best interests in mind, not for politics," Rodney warned.

Keller raised her stylus somewhat timidly. "There is precedent at SGC that a clone's medical proxy is the person selected by the original until such time as the clone is competent to select his or her own. In this case, Dr. McKay was Carson Beckett's medical proxy. He has the right to be informed and consulted in all decisions regarding the clone's wellbeing."

Nothing showed on Weir's face, but Rodney wasn't sure she appreciated that constraint. All she said was, "I'm sure we'll all do our best."

#

"You look fabulous!" Cadman squealed.

Ella didn't like the sound. She also didn't enjoy lying naked on the scanner in her newly attached skin. The scanner bed stuck to her more than it had with her blue skin and much more than it had where she wore clothes or was robotic. The sticking was unpleasant. The lab was also a bit cold.

She climbed off to pull on her science uniform.

"You're not going to wear the same old uniform, are you?" Her forehead wrinkled as if it mattered.

"The armor I arrived in looks even less like an Earthling."

"Well you can't just be an Earthling for Halloween. Who do you want to dress up like?"

Ella was disappointed. All she'd wanted was to dress up like an Earthling for one night.

"You could be one of Charlie's Angels like me. I could find you something sexy to wear, and we'll see how many people hit on you without even realizing who you are."

"No," Ella said. That was not part of being an Earthling that she wished to explore. "If I'm not wearing this, then I want something warm that covers my arms and legs."

"Come to my quarters. I'll let you borrow whatever you like." Both robots came with them, Rocket with new fur and Archytas with a repaired snout. "We could dress the robot critters up, too."

"No, I think they've had enough remodeling for one day." Ella didn't want to imagine some future, self-aware version of Rocket complaining about how she dressed it up as something too violent or too cute for its first Halloween.

#

Ronon stopped by the room where the Lanteans kept local stuff they didn't use. Most of it was worn out and nearly worthless, but for his current purpose, that didn't matter. It only took a moment to locate a shabby, but easily recognizable, pitchfork.

As he was inspecting it for weak points or splinters a tall woman with medium toned skin and hair stepped into the doorway. "Hello, Ronon, I didn't expect to find you in the anthropological storage area. Can I help you with anything?"

He hefted the pitchfork, "Got it."

"Um," the woman bit her plump lower lip in a move probably meant to call attention to her mouth and said, "I'm sure we can work something out, but officially those belong to the anthropology department. May I ask why you want that?"

Ronon thought about challenging her assumption of ownership or staking his own claim based on being a native of Pegasus, but he sensed he could do better. "When you visit a planet having a celebration, you watch and try to fit in, right? I need a Halloween costume. As a kid, I wanted to be a farmer." He hefted the pitchfork again.

"Oh, that's wonderful! It's great that you're participating in the Halloween Party!" Her whole face lifted when she smiled, and Ronon liked that look a lot. It would be nice to end up with more than a prop from this meeting. "Do you need anything else?"

"Farmer clothes are mostly the same." He ran his hand along his chest to achieve about the same effect as when she bit her lip earlier. "I'll bring the pitchfork back tomorrow."

Her head tilted as she said, "When you do, perhaps we could share a meal and talk?"

This was where Ronon knew how to use his alien background to his advantage. "With Earthlings, that invitation tends to lead to sex, right?"

"Only if you want."

She'd know from the way his eyes traced her curves that he probably would. "On my planet, sex is a recreation, not a promise of more."

She smiled again. This was exactly the reaction he wanted. "No strings attached, I understand."

Ronon thought the "strings" Earthlings attached to sexual liaisons were ridiculous. While relationships might lead to sex on Sateda, he couldn't fathom how some Earthlings expected relationships to follow or at least be attempted after every act of sex. He made his expectations clear before every encounter and had been very happy with the partners he'd found that way. Ronon let his arm brush lightly against the woman's as he left saying, "See you tomorrow."

#

Rodney was working in the infirmary, making sure his protocols and projected timeline for saving Carson's clone fit with actual data. "The readouts match for everything but bone marrow."

"Those probes went in last." Dr. Keller stood too close and sounded too cheerful. "The readings should normalize by tomorrow. In the meantime, I'll run a new scan for any toxins in his blood."

"Don't take too much," Rodney muttered. "You doctors want blood for everything, but we don't want his body straining to produce more."

The young doctor looked even younger when she rolled her eyes at him. "Trust me to do my job. Anyway, the Ancient equipment takes most of the readings from probes already inside him."

Rodney stared at Carson's even younger face through the window on the stasis device that wasn't being used for actual stasis at the moment. It was the best option they had for monitoring and stabilizing Carson while they prepared him for a healthy human lifespan when he came out. It was going to be a hard year of waiting for Rodney, but he knew it was better than what might have happened.

"Almost time for the party. Do you have a costume prepared?" Keller asked.

"Yes, whatever. I have a fallback costume I use most years. Not like my genius can be spared from real work to put together something new each time some ridiculous holiday rolls around. You can run along and get ready with whatever you've concocted to fit the day's social constraints." He didn't check to see her reaction as she left. It was nice to have some time alone with Carson, even if the clone was slightly different from the man he'd known and wouldn't realize that Rodney was there for him this time.

#

In the end, Ella had chosen for her Earthling costume: a red plaid shirt, a leather jacket, and a pair of jeans. Cadman said she looked very "girl next door" even if she still didn't look like anyone in particular. Ella thought "girl next door" was a pretty good look for someone who travelled across different galaxies and dimensions, possibly even time.

When Cadman talked her into posing along with a female scientist as another one of Charlies Angels, which seemed to involve pointing a gun upward in a most ineffective way, a passing male said they looked hot. Ella gave back the gun she'd been using as a prop and went to check out the table full of food.

There were plates at one end. Other people seemed to be serving themselves, and Ronon was already sitting to one side with a full plate. Ella set about selecting one of each item offered.

A man she did not know came up and said, "Are you—Do I know you? I'm Roger from hydroponics."

He held out a hand. Ella shook it, as she'd gathered was customary among Earthlings. "I'm Ella."

The man looked at her hand curiously as they shook. Afterward he watched her face as if she were a puzzle. "I'm not sure I get your costume. Can you give me a hint?"

"Girl next door," Ella said.

Roger still looked confused. "Hopefully, next door to Transylvania." He held an arm up to half cover his face. There was a cloak of black fabric hanging from his arm, and two of his teeth seemed to be covered in longer prosthetics. Probably the Earthling she was dressed up to look like would understand his reference, so Ella didn't question it. Instead, she picked up an oblong green fruit and a puffy white globule and added them to her plate.

By the time she reached the end of the food table, she heard a Marine explaining to Roger, "She's that android assassin chick. I guess tonight she's a wolf in sheep's clothing."

Ella went to sit next to Ronon, and Rocket appeared from beneath a table to escort her until she was settled.

They ate side by side in silence until McKay came to join them carrying his own plate of food. "You got that this was a costume party right?"

"I did." Ronon held up a pitchfork that had been leaning on the wall beside him.

"Your entire costume is that you brought a pitchfork?" McKay gestured to Ronon's clothes, as if to point out that they were the same pants and shirt he often wore.

"I'm a farmer. They look just like everyone else," Ronon said.

"So do I," Ella offered.

McKay's eyes went wide, but for once he didn't say anything.

Someone further away said, "They both look like homicidal maniacs."

Although Ella was sure Ronon also heard, neither of them reacted. Their blank faces probably made them look even more homicidal.

"Idiots," McKay shoved a handful of white globules in his mouth and continued talking. "It's the uncanny valley. People can be afraid or uncomfortable when something looks close to human but not quite. Different people draw the lines in different places. Prosthetics or certain social differences can trigger that reaction in some. Advanced roboticists or those who grew up with science fiction may not react that way at all."

Ella wondered if the uncanny valley was where Halloween originated.

The three of them ate quietly for several bites until McKay started talking again. "I came as Arthur Dent, from a book called _Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy_." McKay gestured at the red robe he wore. It was silky and had a pattern of tiny diamond shapes. "I was carrying a towel, but Archytas stole it." He gestured to a nearby chair with a towel draped over it. Both Archytas' and Rocket's paws peeked out from underneath.

"Seen Sheppard yet?" Ronon asked McKay.

"Not in a while." Even Ella could hear the mix of longing and annoyance in McKay's voice.

"He might need your help with his costume," Ronon said.

"What? You know what his costume is? I'm surprised he even has a costume. That tight lipped, fancy haired—Of course Colonel cool has a costume. I bet he's braiding a fake beard and polishing a sword as we speak." McKay stomped out of the party and Archytas easily slid through the crowd to his side. McKay waved the robot away, and it went back to its towel fort with Rocket.

#

"Let me in!" Rodney thumped on John's door. "Ronon said you probably needed help with your Halloween costume."

There wasn't a sound from inside.

"What's going on? You couldn't accidentally incapacitate yourself while trying to look more roguishly ridiculous than usual, could you? Or did you manage to stab yourself with a costume sword? Open this door or I swear I'll call medical—"

The door slid open. "There, I'm alive. Stop making a scene and go back to your party." John stood barefoot in uniform pants and a black tee shirt. His hair stuck up as usual, which meant he looked as if he'd just rolled out of bed.

Rodney's breath caught in his throat. It took him longer than it should have to mutter, "I was not making a scene. I voiced perfectly valid concerns that anyone might have when their team leader fails to show up for a citywide event." A glimmer of shiny metal mostly hidden behind John's shoulder caught Rodney's eye and had him stepping into the room before he thought. "Is that a robot you're hiding?"

John sighed and let the door shut and lock behind them. "It was supposed to be my costume for the party, but I realized it was probably in poor taste. After seeing the diving suits on the drilling platform, I remembered some here that looked a lot like the Cylon Centurions from the original Battlestar Galactica. Ronon helped me get this one up here. I added the crest on top and epaulettes. The rest was just minor modifications."

"Wow," Rodney said, walking around the costume that stood like a statue at the corner of John's L-shaped room. The crest on top was made with matching metal and soldered in place. It should have been welded, but for a costume it showed a lot of effort. "This is awesome. I have to admit, I thought you'd try for something funny or sexy, or both. I was betting on Jack Sparrow. This is much more impressive. Why don't you want to wear it?"

"Um, in case you haven't noticed, we have a cyborg living in Atlantis now and a couple of robot dogs saved our lives yesterday. I didn't think the military commander dressing up as a robot, let alone one at war with humanity, was a great idea."

Rodney laughed and sat down on John's bed. From there he could see a web of cables like the ones Ella slept in forming a sort of loft bed at the far end of the room's L-shape. It made Rodney realize how rarely he was allowed in John's room and how little they shared lately. But now that he was in and talking, he tried to keep it light. "You were just afraid of the toaster jokes. The cyborg dressed up as an Earthling. I think she'd be amused to see you as a robot, but I'll agree some of your Marines, as well as a few pathetic excuses for science minions, may need a bit of reeducation regarding robots and cyborgs."

"Hey, where's Archy?" John asked, looking around.

"Archytas is still at the party with Rocket. You seemed a bit put off when you stopped by my room and saw Archytas typing." Rodney wanted to reach out and touch John's hand, or maybe his arm. Nothing sexual, but John probably wouldn't appreciate that sort of touch. "If you're battling some sort of robot phobia, you can tell me. I was just explaining to Ella about the uncanny valley."

"No, nothing like that." John shook his head with his eyes half closed and sad looking. They widened as he asked, "Was someone out of line with her? Do I seriously need to have a talk with the troops about respecting cybernetic differences?"

"I don't think Ella and Ronon were staying at the party much longer, and I'd like to believe our people can figure this out without another sensitivity training." He looked up at John who was leaning against his desk. "If you're okay with Archytas, why are you avoiding me?"

John eyes went wide. "You can't seriously say I'm avoiding you when I've pulled you aside almost every day this week."

This was the part where Rodney knew he risked screwing up the best thing he'd ever had in his life. But even Ella had pointed out the importance of making one's own choices. "Not that I have anything against fast fun when you happen to want it, but we used to watch movies, hang out on the pier, and play computer games that threatened to destroy entire civilizations."

John shrugged in a move that twisted his whole spine without moving his head. "When Carson died you told everyone he was your best friend, but you didn't come to me at all. You pretty much never come to me unless I pull you aside for 'fast fun' as you put it. Then you got a robot dog and Carson's clone, not to mention Ronon's cyborg sidekick. I wasn't sure you wanted much else from me. Anyway, I was waiting to see what changes came through in the new charter tonight."

That seemed like an about face in the conversation. "The new charter?"

"The one Elizabeth has been talking about at meetings for the last couple months? It came through in the data burst after the party started. I was reading it when you showed up yelling at my door."

"You were reading charter revisions rather than going to a party? That's even more out of character than moping about your Halloween costume."

John leaned back in a way that accentuated every perfect angle of his lean form. "Clearly, you haven't read the revisions."

Rodney pulled out his tablet.

"Section 7, article 3," John said. He moved to sit on the bed beside Rodney and read along with him.

The section covered sexual harassment and fraternization, but none of the changes looked problematic. If anything, the rules affecting high level leadership had been relaxed to only include those who reported directly to a person and restrictions on fraternization within Gate teams were gone entirely. "So now you have more options?" Rodney asked, a little worried.

John tilted his head and glared a Rodney.

"What then? They don't appear to have repealed Don't Ask Don't Tell. You were already getting whatever you wanted from me. Believe it or not, I have no idea what that stern look and absolutely no words are supposed to convey about the squirrely workings of your junior birdman brain."

"Colonel Birdman, please." John looked entirely too smug as he finally sat down beside Rodney on the bed. "It means that so long as I'm not stupid enough to say anything I shouldn't, there's nothing officially wrong with me going out with you or even having sex and sleeping overnight in your room or mine."

Before Rodney could express how much he wanted that but hadn't thought John ever would, they were kissing and fell back on the bed.

#

"Don't you want to be in the costume contest?" Cadman asked, already pulling on Ella's arm in an annoying but non-painful way.

"No." Ella answered, but Cadman frowned and didn't let go. "People here don't understand my costume. And I need more time to understand Halloween."

Cadman released her arm but held her ground in front of Ella. "Okay, but promise you'll stay and watch?"

Ella nodded. She'd already intended to stay and watch to improve her understanding.

Ronon leaned back in his chair and kept eating.

The costume contest began with a man in a white suit saying, "Thank you, thank you, thank you." Not only did Ella miss whatever he was thanking them for, she didn't understand why everyone laughed. The first few contestants were equally incomprehensible. They each walked or danced their way across the front of the room to different music. The Earthlings laughed a lot, which suggested there were jokes that Ella didn't understand. The audience clapped for each entry, and Ella concluded that was a local custom, like shaking hands.

When it was Cadman's turn, she came on stage with two military men who appeared to have shoved round fruit in their shirts to serve as fake breasts. All three of them froze in the silly pose with their guns angled up that Cadman had taught Ella earlier. Ella laughed along with the rest of the audience even if she still didn't fully understand. The guys having nothing but fruit in their shirts for costumes was probably funny, and the pose was silly and evidently well known. The trio struck a couple of other poses with their guns in slightly less silly positions. Ella noticed that the military members of the audience were laughing more than others, but she couldn't tell if the humor suited them better or if they were biased in favor of military participants in the contest.

The next entry was a squat woman wearing strange homemade knee and elbow pads with purple circles around a white center. She scattered a bunch of plant parts, toy houses, and even smaller toy wheeled vehicles on the floor. Then she rolled on top of the items until they stuck to whatever sticky coating covered her clothing. Half of the room looked as confused as Ella felt. The first ones to laugh were all scientists who offered others whispered explanations about a Japanese video game. Pretty soon the whole room was laughing. Ella concluded Halloween wasn't just about trying out different roles and identities. It could involve looking like an idiot for the amusement of others, possibly bringing them together through shared humor or references.

The final entry in the contest started with four people under sheets wandering around and probably not being able to see where they were going. Each was almost completely covered by a different colored sheet: red, pink, blue, and orange. A few people laughed and clapped right away. Ella was prepared to not understand, but then someone in a bright yellow costume entered from the back corner of the room. Ella laughed without knowing why. The big yellow circle had a missing wedge section that opened and closed as if it were eating. It reminded her of something funny. She didn't remember what. Probably it had nothing to do with whatever made the Earthlings laugh, but it worked either way.

At the end of the contest, the woman who had rolled around on the ground won a prize called a rubber chicken. That made everyone laugh as well. It was possible they would laugh at anything at that point.

#

Ronon did not laugh during the costume contest. It was funnier not to.

It did not bother him that Ella laughed. Even if she didn't understand as much as he did of Earth culture, she was finding her own ways of fitting in. It seemed to help that she understood something about Cadman's costume. Introducing her to Cadman had been a good idea.

Ronon wasn't sure why Ella laughed so hard at the last entry, but he filed that away in case it meant more to him later.

After the rubber chicken was awarded, Cadman and the two Marines who had helped her came over to talk to Ella.

"Ella," Cadman called out loudly, meet my fellow Angels. "This one's actually named Charlie and this one is Juan. They were wondering if you and I would like to go on a double date with them tomorrow night."

"No," Ella said flatly.

Cadman crowded in and bumped her shoulder against Ella's. "Come on, it'll be fun." In an only slightly quieter voice she mock whispered, "I'll stay with you the whole time, and I promise they're nice guys."

"I don't date," Ella said.

Charlie and Juan shared a look that suggested this wasn't their idea in the first place.

Cadman pulled Ella aside and in something closer to a true whisper that Ronon nonetheless could hear, she said, "Give it a chance. I can help you get ready and teach you all about dating. I promise you'll have fun, and you won't have to do anything you don't want to if it gets physical."

"No, I don't do that. I'm not interested." Ella matched the volume of Cadman's whispers. Charlie and Juan stepped a little farther away and muttered about "women."

"Look, whatever bad experiences you may have had in the past, these guys can be a lot of fun. And trust me, there's not much else to do around here."

"Have you never met anyone who didn't want to date? Is it that strange? Also, I have plenty to do with training, fighting, making robots." Raising her voice, Ella called out, "Come, Rocket."

Both Rocket and Archytas came. Archytas grabbed McKay's towel off of the table where they'd been hiding and draped it around like a bulky scarf.

"I think I'm done with this party," Ella said. "You can still come by my lab if you want, but I'm never going on a date and would rather not discuss it again."

As Ella left the room, Ronon took both of their plates to where dishes were dropped off. Cadman stood with her hands on her hips for a moment but then turned to find Charlie and Juan.

Ronon caught up with Ella back at the robotics lab. He saw the two robots lying together quietly, on top of McKay's towel at the base of the nets. "If anyone causes you trouble, about dating or whatever, let me know. We're not supposed to hurt them for that. There are papers you can fill out, but as your Taskmaster, I can show you other ways to discourage unwanted attention."

"What if I like some attention but don't want sex or dating?" Ella picked up a wrench and passed it from one hand to the other. "Is that unheard of here?"

"Earthlings have a lot of hang ups about sex." Ronon pulled a knife out of his hair to flip as he rested against a counter. "I don't know if they have stories about people who are uninterested in sex or romance. I could ask. On Sateda, we had terms for many kinds of relationships: various kinds of lovers, those who loved but didn't touch, those who loved and touched but didn't have sex, those who met each other's emotional needs but without romance or sex, those who bonded to share a household or share childcare, those with bonded like family, those with warrior bonds, and even variations of the Taskmaster relationship I have with you."

"Would I have fit in better on Sateda?" Ella asked, flipping her wrench to match the way Ronon flipped his knife.

"We had nothing like this lab and no experience with robotics or cyborgs. I believe the people here will accept your terms if you can make them understand what you want."

"How do I do that?"

Ronon felt a stab of pride as his training charge asked for his advice. "You could explain to me what you want first. As your Taskmaster, I want to understand how you see yourself and what you believe you want. Although, it may sometimes be my duty to see you differently or ask you to do things you don't want to do."

"And if I refuse?" Ella flipped her wrench from one hand to another, but Ronon tucked his knife away to give her his undivided attention.

"I will try to explain my reasoning. I will not force you to do anything you seriously object to doing. But there may come a time when I can no longer be your Taskmaster."

"Then what will you be?" Despite how still her face was and how even the rhythm with which she tossed her wrench, Ronon knew they'd reached the heart of conversation.

"What would you want me to be?"

"I don't need family or friends."

Ronon had heard others make that claim. He had thought it himself as a Runner and for a time afterward. Even if Ella couldn't remember her past, he believed she had her reasons. "You don't need a Taskmaster. I asked what you want."

Ella took the wrench to her metal thumb and twisted in a way that looked unpleasant. "I want a fair chance, and I want to be touched. But I don't want it to have anything to do with sex or romance or even Cadman trying to convince me of something."

For someone who couldn't remember her past, Ronon thought Ella knew herself well. "Do you like the touch of the wrench?"

"No, not like that. It's different from someone else. I like my blanket and being up in my net, but I think I'd like being held by someone or sleeping besides someone more."

"Do you remember anything like that from before?" He had to ask.

"I don't think I had very good experiences with people before."

Ronon thought about what he could offer with the least chance of calling back bad memories. "On Sateda, it was understood that warriors might sleep and bond together or a Taskmaster might hold or comfort a trainee charge without sex or romance being involved."

"Did you ever want that?" She finally stopped tossing the wrench.

Ronon only thought for a moment about how much to tell his charge. "While many different relationships were accepted on Sateda, most of mine allowed the possibility of sex. I did not have or want a sexual relationship with my Taskmaster and I had others to hold, comfort, and sleep with me. But as your Taskmaster, I am here for you. I could hold and comfort you when that seemed right to both of us. It wouldn't be every night. In time, you will want and need to build relationships that are a good fit for you with others."

"Are you happier on the ground by yourself and guarding the door?" Ella asked.

"I do not know if I would like sleeping in the nets as you do. With the robots on the ground, I am happy to sit with you in your nest for a while."

They both climbed up to the top net where Ella now had two blankets and two pillows.

"Make yourself comfortable," Ella said. "I can adjust or add cables if you want something."

Ronon took Ella at her word and rolled around, shifted higher, and asked her to add a cable to better support his head. In the end, he was reclining near the corner, his head raised enough to give a clear view of the door and most of the room. "Surprisingly comfortable. Now what would you like?"

Ella handed him a blanket and then partially wrapped herself in another one before taking a position beside him in approximately the same posture. They were touching along one side in the way people would when crowded. Ronon waited for her to shift naturally. Given that her lack of memory did not hinder her body while fighting, he expected her to test out whatever forms of contact she had enjoyed in the past. She didn't adjust as if used to someone with a larger frame. She did not sprawl or relax the way children tended to do.

"If you want to rest your head against my shoulder or chest, I welcome that. Or I can place my arm around you or yours around me."

"This all feels very strange to me." She shifted a bit and eventually settled under his arm. Her head was on his shoulder. Her outer arm and inner hand carefully held his arm wrapped around her lower ribs. "My costume skin doesn't stick or slide too much against yours. Does it feel like real skin to you?"

It felt surprisingly natural to hold her. "Yes. Do you like it? Do you plan to keep it?"

"It's not me, and I didn't like what Dr. McKay explained about the uncanny valley. The other repair materials from Atlantis were as sensitive to touch, which I think I like, but still looked the way I imagine myself to be, for now. But this skin is nice for this. I think I like being held, for now."

Ronon gave her a gentle squeeze. "For now, I like holding you."

#

They'd been lying face to face, kissing and touching, for what felt like hours. Rodney knew objectively it had probably been minutes. The strange intimacy of lying together on John's bed snapped Rodney out of the sexual haze. He opened his eyes to see John's closed and said, "Are Carson and Ella protected by the new charter?"

"Yes," John whispered, eyes still closed. "I would have told you earlier if there were any problems."

Rodney watched John's mouth as he spoke and then studied the long sweep of his eyelashes beneath closed lids. "What you said earlier, do you want to go out with me and stay overnight in each other's rooms?"

The sudden snapping open of John's eyes put Rodney on alert as John answered softly, "I said it was possible now. We don't have to do anything you don't want."

"I don't want?" Rodney huffed in disbelief. "When was the last time you wanted to be alone with me for anything but sex?"

"Yesterday," John answered easily.

"When you wouldn't open your door more than six inches?"

John's eyes blinked and he pulled back a few inches. "Hey, I apologized for that. It should be obvious now. I was working on my Cylon."

Rodney's mind swam in confusion, and the way he was lying close to John, still touching, made it worse. "Oh right, that amazingly heartfelt apology before you refused to watch a movie with me and basically called me a baby killer?"

"Baby killer? I would never say that. You were all cozy with your robot pal. I didn't think there was room for me."

"Room for you? Archytas is a robot. I wouldn't have needed it to comfort me if anyone human ever cared enough." Rodney heard the vulnerably quaver in his voice, and regretted letting that out. "Why do you think I told everyone not to call them egg bombs? I've gotten over killing Wraith, but calling those things eggs is like asking for nightmares."

"Shit, Rodney, I swear I didn't realize." John reached a hand forward to cradle Rodney's cheek. "Ever since Abrams and Gall, I've known how hard you take losses." John's thumb stroked Rodney's cheekbone.

Rodney couldn't help pressing forward, into the touch. "Since the Marines Kolya killed, at least. But with all the rest—even Sumner a bit, although he was a jerk to the scientists, and I was more worried about you in all that."

John's expression softened in a way that made Rodney's heart race. "You barely knew me then."

"From the moment you sat in the chair in Antarctica, I cared far too much about you."

John pushed forward and kissed him, not in a sexy or lingering way. John was smiling behind that kiss. His lips were warm and swollen from all the kissing before, but this kiss was a flash of pure happiness. "And I thought I'd worked to seduce you for months and months."

"You dragged me into a barn off world the first time."

"After months of testing how you'd react. You were already on my Gate team and the fraternization rules applied." Johns eyes were shiny and his pupils blown.

"So all the quickies in deniable locations were you worrying about getting caught?"

John's forehead wrinkled and the smile faded without a trace. "What else would they be?"

"I didn't know. You never said anything. I thought you might be that way with all the guys. Maybe with women too. Or maybe it was all you wanted from me. I was easy pickings when you couldn't find anyone better or maybe when you just wanted a quick release."

John pulled away and sat at the edge of the bed. His jaw was tight as he stared at Rodney. "How could you think that? Were you seeing other people?"

"No!" Rodney shouted. He sat up, too. "I never knew what the rules were. When I tried to ask, you never answered. You're not exactly the type to offer reassurances or share your feelings."

"I didn't think you wanted to talk about feelings or needed reassurances. When you asked stuff like that or teased me about being Kirk, I thought you were being intentionally obnoxious. What we did seemed to work pretty well for you."

Rodney shook his head in disbelief. "You could always get to me, even before you figured out all my sensitive spots. You're some kind of sex god, and I was happy to have that, even if it was always on your terms with you in charge."

"Do you want to be in charge sometimes?" The way he turned his head to ask stretched his neck in distracting ways.

Rodney swallowed and held back a shiver. "I don't know. I'd like to touch you and spend the night sometimes. This is the closest I've had to a long term relationship, but I think there should be choices and some discussion of what each person wants or is willing to try."

"Okay," John said. Then he just sat there as Rodney's mind flooded with images of everything he'd ever wanted to do to the man.

"That's it? Just okay? Two years of no discussion, no choice, not knowing if we're exclusive or if you had any feelings for me. And now you think 'okay' covers it?"

John held his arms wide. "Touch. Ask. Tell me what to do. It should be obvious to your genius mind by now that I have feelings for you and that I haven't been with anyone but you the last two years."

"You're an idiot." Rodney felt the remains of his anger and hurt flowing out of him as he said it.

The military commander of Atlantis nodded and smiled, arms still held wide to welcome whatever the most brilliant mind in two galaxies wanted to try.

Rodney reached out to run his hand down John's chest. He stroked and traced the muscles and the nipples he'd never really had the time to play with. When they stood out hard and tight against John's black tee, Rodney let his fingers tease under the hem.

He traced John's waistband and the man shuddered. That made Rodney ghost his fingers up John's sides and brush both nipples as lightly as he could. John jerked and bit his lip.

"You can make noise now."

"That might take more than one night to learn," John said. His eyes were wide, and it was clear that counted as a difficult and emotional admission in John's mind.

"Well, if you ever feel like it, I'd love to hear you," Rodney said. Then he pulled John's shirt off and pushed the airman flat on his bed. He positioned John's arms above his head and placed a pillow on top of his hands, hoping he'd take the hint. Rodney flung a leg across John's hips so their cocks pressed together, but he didn't rock or grind. "You may think I like hearing myself talk, but I'd love to hear what you want or enjoy, in words or other sounds."

John panted a little harder. That was enough to encourage Rodney to kiss him until they were both gasping for air. Sitting up calmly with their groins still pressed together, he went back to exploring John's now naked chest with his hands and, eventually, his tongue.

"Rodneeeey!" John almost squealed. His voice was at least an octave higher than usual.

"What, John?" Rodney asked, before sucking hard on a nipple to feel John squirm below him.

"Too many clothes," John finally gasped out.

"You're so impatient, Colonel." John bucked up hard at the use of his title. Rodney was going to remember that for future role play. "Have you ever tried nipple clamps?"

"No."

Rodney rolled the perky, flushed nipples between his fingers. "Any sex toys at all?"

"No."

Rodney stretched his body flat as he slid his hands along John's arms to trace and hold his wrists. "You should definitely let me take charge sometimes."

"You brought sex toys to Atlantis?"

"Only a couple. But remember, I'm a physicist, an engineer, and a genius." As he slid down John's body, Rodney let his fingers glide over the fly of John's pants and follow the seam back farther. John pressed up into the touch, but Rodney wouldn't be rushed. "Do you like to be fucked or even finger fucked?"

"Sometimes," John's eyes were half-lidded as Rodney slowly unzipped the fly he'd been tracing.

"But you prefer to fuck me?"

"You have the best ass I've ever seen. Or felt."

It wasn't that Rodney had never heard people's comments on his ass. But John rarely gave compliments, especially to Rodney and sounding like he meant it. "Good thing I like to be fucked then." With a loose fist, Rodney pumped John's dark red cock. He was fully hard already, laid out naked across his bed while Rodney knelt between his legs fully clothed. It was a kink or form of power play Rodney hadn't engaged in before. But Sheppard was a thing of beauty even sprawled across a chair in his BDUs. Having John let him do this, let him look his fill, told Rodney a lot about John's feelings for him.

"Do you want me to take off my clothes, or is this a turn on for you?"

"Anything. Anything you want." There was desperation in John's voice, even if he barely made any noise as Rodney teased him.

"I'm asking if you want me naked."

"Yes," John half shouted.

"Then open your eyes and watch." Rodney didn't know where he got the nerve to say that. It was true he had an ego, but it wasn't about his body, and he'd never asked someone to watch him undress before. But if Rodney was going to take his hands off John to remove his own clothes, he needed to feel some form of contact. And god, could he feel John's eyes on him as he stripped.

"I'm sure you have lube and condoms someplace," Rodney bent to display his ass while he said it.

"First drawer in the bathroom," John whispered, voice rough.

"So far from the bed? You really don't have people over. We'll have to rethink that, but for now, I hope you get a good view of my ass."

Rodney didn't know how to strut, but he knew how to stand up and walk proud. When he turned back with lube and condoms in hand, the wrecked look on John's face made him very proud.

"Sometime, when you really want it, I'm going to fuck you." Rodney climbed back onto the bed, hovering above John but not touching. "Tonight, I want to ride you. The choice you get is whether to watch me prep myself or whether I should put this lube on one of your hands and let you do it."

"Please let me touch."

Rodney's cock jerked. John begging, even just a little, had just jumped to the top of Rodney's list of favorite things. "Since you ask so nicely," Rodney said, and he pulled John's right hand out from under the pillow and sucked two fingers before coating them with lube.

John traced Rodney's crack just once before sliding one finger home. It felt so good. After controlling every touch and sensation, Rodney groaned at the invasion, at a touch so perfect that was outside his direct control. It was the best sex they'd ever had, and John hadn't even touched his prostate yet.

As soon as John slid in a second finger, he hooked that bundle of nerves, and Rodney lost control for a moment. He pumped back onto those fingers as he panted and hissed. He could have come from that alone. It was amazing how turned on he felt already.

Some part of his genius mind came back online and manage to slide a condom and extra lube onto John's long slender cock. Then he took hold of John's right wrist as he pulled off the man's fingers and slid right onto his cock.

There was a little burn, but it was worth it to feel so full and warm. Sliding down slowly he watched John's eyes. They both struggled to keep their eyes open, to keep moving slowly, to hold back from the precipice.

When Rodney was fully seated, with John deep and hard inside him, they gasped as one. Rodney couldn't help but smile at the matching sounds when they had previously been so quiet and most often taken turns getting each other off. John smiled back, looking muzzy headed and not at all in control.

When Rodney started to rock, small movements leading slowly into something more, John began to keen. It was a high-pitched sound Rodney had never head the man make before. It was ridiculous. To Rodney, it was amazing. As the pitch became higher, Rodney moved faster. Then he pulled up higher and dropped down hard. John's sounds followed his drops like a tin whistle, and Rodney saw his lover's eyes were tightly closed. His whole body was tense to the point of vibrating slightly.

"You can come if you want to."

"Not yet," John said. His fingers flexed, and Rodney realized he was still holding John's wrist that wasn't under the pillow. It was slippery with sweat and a bit of lube that had dripped down from John's fingers. Rodney guided that hand to his own straining cock and let go.

It seemed to come naturally to John to wrap around Rodney with just the right grip and pressure. Of course, he'd had a lot of practice learning how to get Rodney off. This time, John let Rodney push up into his hand and drop down onto his cock. Up and down, they only lasted a few more rounds. Then Rodney was shooting all over John's stomach, and John bucked up into Rodney chasing his own orgasm. Rodney's pulsed inside creating a feedback loop that kept them both going until they collapsed in a messy heap.

#

When Ella finally relaxed against him, Ronon said, "I would be glad to sleep here tonight, if you want."

"Yes," Ella said. She settled a little deeper beside him and reached her arm across his lower ribs.

He kept his arm in the area she had chosen, but held her a little closer. The cables around them adjusted gradually to support their altered position. Ronon knew they responded to Ella's interface but noted that they adjusted to support redistributed weight and muscles as well.

"I don't think I can fall asleep yet."

"Would you like to hear a story from Sateda?"

"One about relationships with people like me?" she asked.

"I could tell you some of those as well. But something I overheard at the costume party reminded me of a story often told to new recruits." In truth, most young recruits had probably heard the story from parents when they were even younger. But Ronon wasn't going to risk whatever forgotten associations Ella had with parental figures.

#

As Ella shared her nets with Ronon, she wondered how much of what he said about Sateda was real and how much was the way he wanted to remember his planet and people. Not having her own memories and not wanting them back, she was in no position to judge. The overwhelming buzz of touch across so much of her skin had faded to a comforting warmth. Both her costume skin and what she'd had before seemed to register near constant vibration, but that blended with the heat coming off Ronon's body and held in by the blankets. The sound of his heartbeat and breathing matched something deeper than memory. Whatever other people might want from each other, Ella wanted this. She didn't even mind if Ronon was a little stinky under the smell of his leather clothing and whatever he put in his hair. The stinkiness made him more real.

"What story did you want to tell me?" Ella asked.

"One of the Earthlings referred to you as a wolf in sheep's clothing. I've had that Earth phrase explained to me before, but on Sateda we had a somewhat better story about similar animals. I will refer to them as predators and prey, since you have never seen any of our animals. But know that they are furry and not so different in size and shape from your robots."

"Okay," she said. Letting her eyes drift closed, Ella imagined the predators as deep purple and the prey as pastel blue.

"Long ago," Ronon began, "The predators lived for the hunt, and the prey learned only to hide and run. There were never too many of either, because they kept each other in balance. When a winter was especially hard, the prey would remain hidden in the twistiest, densest forest inland, eating only the tough bark from the trees and any mushrooms that happened to grow in small crevices. The predators would head toward the ocean and brave the waves breaking against the rocks to find the fish that sometimes sheltered there.

"Now it happened one long hard winter that one of the predators managed to shift a few rocks and form a pool of ocean water with many fish in it. As new waves broke over the top, they would sometimes deposit more fish, but none of the trapped fish seemed able to get away. The predator grew excited and called itself a fisher. It experimented with building different ponds in different places.

"In that same winter, one of the prey hid pieces of some mushrooms in the long crevices of a large rock that the other prey seldom visited. It was damp and out of the way, but the mushrooms grew very well there. When the prey that had tried this new thing with the mushrooms saw many, many mushrooms growing in rows, it was pleased. It called the large rock a farm and itself a farmer. The farmer gathered more samples and set up new experimental farms in different places and with different stock.

"When the farmer showed the other prey what it had done, most of them laughed. But everyone enjoyed the extra mushrooms that they were given to eat. Likewise, most of the predators laughed at the fisher, but they were happy to catch fish from the ponds rather than risking their lives where the wave broke against other rocks with only a few fish flashing by.

"Over time, a few other predators learned to build fishponds and called themselves fishers. Some of them ate only fish all year round and stopped hunting prey. Meanwhile, several of the prey became farmers, growing mushrooms far and wide as well as other crops. Some lived off of their farms in places that were hard for the predators to reach.

"Among both predators and prey, there were those who believed the old ways were the true ways. They believed that all farmers were prey at heart and all fishers were predators. But both groups benefitted from the more constant supply of food and the continuing experiments with both farms and fishponds that allowed both populations to grow. Those who considered themselves to be fishers and farmers and no longer predators or prey were happy with their way of life. They were too busy to concern themselves with those who didn't understand, and they found their own ways to appreciate each other. They lived as they chose, and they never went hungry."

Ella laughed at the story and rubbed the costume skin of her face against the leather of Ronon's vest. Both were mostly smooth but rough enough to make her do it again. She tightened her arm around his ribs. "I'm lucky to have such an understanding Taskmaster. Thank you for the story."

Ronon said only, "You are always welcome."

#

After a soapy, silly shower that was also making Rodney's list of favorite things, John said, "Want to sleep in my nets?"

Rodney looked up dubiously at the loft bed version of what Ella's robotics lab offered for physical therapy. "Your real bed isn't that messy."

"I know, and we can sleep there if you want. But the nets might be nicer. Try it?"

After everything John had tried for him that night, Rodney couldn't say no. He followed John up what was essentially a rope ladder to the nest of blankets where John was already lying down with his arms open wide again. Rodney snuggled in with John's arm under his neck and was startled when the cables shifted. They moved to support Rodney's head, upper neck, and lower back. As a scientist, he should have predicted that possibility. He'd seen a cable hover behind John when he almost fell from Ella's nets, but he'd never asked or tested how adaptive the cables could be.

"Pretty awesome, isn't it?" John sounded half stoned on endorphins and whatever else biology provided when life went exceptionally well.

Rodney sighed with pleasure. "This might be better than my prescription mattress. Does it adjust when you move?"

John rolled onto his side and flung a leg and arm over Rodney. "All night long."

Rodney's cock twitched, but there probably wouldn't be a round two until after they slept a while. For now, the physical display of affection and the possibility of more later was more than Rodney had ever expected. As the cables readjusted to accommodate John's new position, Rodney said, "I may have to build one of these in my room."

"You could always share mine. And you already have Archy."

Rodney remember the dismissive way John had mentioned the robot earlier. "Do you want me to get rid of Archytas?"

"No, I was stupid to be jealous last night." John ducked his nose into Rodney's hair.

"You were jealous?"

"He was on your bed. You were petting his head."

"It's a robot, John. Even if it someday developed sentience, I'd obviously rather be with you. That said, I kind of like having a helper robot." Rodney dug his fingers into John's hair and massaged his scalp, which really was nothing like petting Archytas.

"Would you be willing to share sometimes?" John's hand drifted to stroke the back of Rodney's neck. A cable relaxed to give John's hand more room.

"There's a programming option for a second imprint."

"This must be love, if you're offering me joint custody of your robot."

After a moment's hesitation, Rodney tilted his head closer to John's. "Yeah, I think it is, you know."

"Me, too." John borrowed his face into the side of Rodney's neck.

 

The End


End file.
